Songs from Different Times
by lilabut
Summary: Thirty years in the future, the world has stopped turning for Jacob. Caught between his imprint and the hope that deep inside that girl with the golden eyes, his Bells is waiting for him, he has to make a choice much graver than any other. ANGST, post-BD
1. the years have weathered me

This was such a challenge to write. The idea for the story came into my head pretty suddenly and would not leave me alone, so I sat down and wrote this 5-part story in about a week. I had a lot of help with getting this story ready from many ladies over at _The Air, the Sun_. Thank you all so much!

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**Songs from Different Times**

Part 1

And as the sun died / I promised that I'd seek you out / Well now the years have weathered me

**broken records – a promise**

Mechanically, Jacob shoved the food into his mouth, barely chewing, barely aware of any taste. His motions were sporadic, short, lifeless.

Yet, no one seemed to notice how _life_ was slowing being soaked out of Jacob Black's veins. How his eyes turned more dull with every seemingly pointless morning he woke up, how his smiles became less sunny, always less honest until, finally, they became a rarity. Only to be seen in exquisite moments he specifically chose to keep up this endless charade.

Because that is what his life had become over the past three decades. A game. An odd reality that seemed more and more like an endless rehearsal for something grander.

This could not be _it_.

The food he was eating – Jacob was sure it was delicious. In the very early days, he had enjoyed Esme's cooking. But his sense for taste had been blunted over the years, just like the constant sticky sweet smell that surrounded him had killed of his sense of smell.

Sometimes, Jacob thought that his sense to _feel_ had disappeared along with them.

There were few things Jacob Black still felt these days. Most of them, he wished would just disappear like the rest.

"Jake, could you hand me the potatoes?" Leah's voice echoed into Jacob's thoughts, ringing like alarm bells in his ears.

Without glancing in the direction, he grabbed the bowl of baked potatoes, handing them across the table to Leah. He dared to look up from his own plate for a split second, seeing Leah take the bowl from his hand and for the fragment of the second he dared to stare, he saw a flicker of Seth's face reflecting from hers.

Seth was the reason Jacob avoided looking at Leah in her human form these days. She knew, of course she knew. She had not intentionally looked into a mirror for almost seven years, afraid of the downpour of sadness that overcame her at the memory of her brother – his memory always and forever etched onto her own face. Maybe literally.

Jacob had never thought of the two of them as looking tremendously alike. But he realized with time, that the only reason for that was the difference in the way they wore how they looked. The life that had always been lacking Leah's smile and the absent shine in her eyes had reflected twice as much from Seth.

On rare occasions, when Leah dared to smile, Jacob could hardly bear being in the same room as her. He could feel the echoes of Seth's warmth, hear the faint memory of his laughter. Saw debris of his smile in hers.

To say that he missed Seth would be an understatement. When he had imprinted seven years ago, an anchor had been ripped from beneath Jacob. He had let him go, happy, that at least Seth would finally live a life like they all should. But a selfish part of him had wanted his friend to stay, to dwell in the same misery like he himself, to stick with him until the end of time.

They had agreed that not staying in touch would be best and easiest for all of them. Just like they barely had any contact to anyone else. They lived in a different world, and over the years it had turned out that there was no point in clinging onto the past. It just hurt too much.

Jacob had suggested that Leah should go with Seth, finally live a life, stop phasing. Be happy. But she would not even listen to him, treating his voice like the wind. Who answers the wind?

Suddenly, Jacob felt the spider web of his thoughts dissolving around him, started to perceive his surroundings more and more, heard a soft, gentle voice whispering his name, the warm touch of a hand on his bare arm.

"Jacob, are you alright?"

He hated this. Hated how her mere presence prevented him from dwelling too deep in his thoughts, how the sound of her voice – asking for him – pulled him away from his own mind. How his free will dripped out of him at her order.

He knew it was not her fault, she did not even know the effect she had on him. Never would he put that pressure on her. He literally could never do that.

Jacob's head turned without him giving the order, and one of his masquerade smiles stretched his unwilling lips apart, the sore ache in his cheeks tearing at his insides.

Looking at Renesmee's compassionate face, Jacob just nodded. She would believe him, never knowing that this was a different person answering her than the one that had imprinted on her all these years ago. This new Jacob was what she was used to. The small changes she did not notice. There was no way for her to know the person he once was. So, how could she differentiate that person from the one he had become?

She smiled at him, continuing to eat her Popsicle, one of the only real foods that she did eat. It had bothered Jacob at first, the fact that she preferred blood over real food. It seemed so cruel, the image of this young, pale but healthy looking girl, lips stained with blood. But eventually, Jacob had to accept it. Not that he ever had a choice not to.

Her hand remained on his arm, always holding on to him in some way. She would hold his hand, hug him, sit on his lap although there were plenty of empty seats in the house. Still, it was all platonic. They were friends, would always only be friends. Jacob was sure of that. So, he tried to explain her need to be physically close to him with the imprint. He never knew how Quil's imprint on Claire had eventually formed their relationship – had had not heard from his best friend in thirty years. Whether they were also just friends, or had fallen in love.

Jacob could not deny that, in the wake of his imprint, he had been looking forward to having _the one_ later in his life. That there was, in the end, really that one person out there for him. That Renesmee would give him what he had been longing for for so long. And that he had finally found someone he could give everything of himself to.

But, with every year that he watched her grow, that he was her brother and friend, that he watched her turn from an infant to a young woman, realization slowly sank in that he could never feel for her in any other way than friendship.

He used to look at her, playing with her dolls, and the thought that maybe, in the future, he would be kissing her, touching her, disgusted him.

No. They would never be more than they were now. He was already everything to her that he could be. Jacob had nothing more to give.

And she would never know that the pull she had on him was slowly driving him away from himself.

Jacob knew that no one here noticed how he slowly changed. Change was foreign to everyone here. A faint, distant memory from a life they had, for the most part, forgotten. Also, much like Renesmee, they had never really known the person he once used to be. The sunny, happy, enthusiastic boy that used to work in his garage for hours – a garage of which he did not even know if it still existed – and who would get into trouble with Quil and Embry – his best friends who he had left behind just like his old self.

There was only one person who could see the changes as clearly and sharp as everything else. Who could see the old Jacob dying with every tick of the clock, who saw the sunlight fading from his eyes.

But Jacob knew, as his eyes fell on Bella sitting on the couch with a book in her pale hands, that she would never tell.

_Bella._

Jacob's numb heart shattered slightly more when he laid his eyes on her, and so he quickly focussed back on his plate, realizing that his hands had continued shoving food into his mouth without him taking any notice of it.

Things had gotten better between them after it had become clear that Jacob would never actually become her son-in-law. But he knew, and was sure she did as well, that it would never be the same between them. The girl he had been friends with, the girl he had fallen in love with when his heart was still capable of doing so, that girl was dead, gone. Forever.

Instead, he was given a substitute that neither looked nor spoke like his girl. And over the years, she stopped acting like his _Bells_, as well. Everything he had once loved about her was gone. Her creamy skin had turned into hard, cold marble. Her soft brown eyes had turned into sharp, golden orbs. Her adorable clumsiness had given away to a graceful control of her body. Her laughter sounded nothing like bells anymore, there was no more warmth radiating from her.

Not becoming direct family had eased some of the awkwardness that determined their relationship now, but nothing could disguise the fact that they were just two people who had once known – loved – each other and who now found no way to be together anymore.

Every time Jacob dared to look into Bella's golden eyes, he saw guilt and insecurity looking back at him, and in those moments, he wanted nothing more than to shake her so long and hard that his old Bells would crawl back to the surface, would wake up from her slumber. Because, although he knew that that person was long dead, he felt as if he never made it over the phase of denial, still hoping that somewhere beneath the marble surface, she was still hidden. That the girl he once loved was still there.

But every time he saw her in Edward's arms, he knew that his mind was just playing with him – maybe it was because he was literally losing his mind whenever their daughter was around – and he had to realize that the only place his Bells still existed was his memory.

And when he lay awake during another sleepless night, he hoped that the memories would just fade away. That he would stop seeing her face, and the faces of Quil and Embry, his father and sisters, even faint memories of his late mother. He wished he could just erase the images of the garage and First Beach, of bonfires and the red Rabbit, of motorcycles and warm sodas, of a school he had no motivation of attending, of people whose names he did not even know.

If it would all just go away…

On the other hand, Jacob's stomach clenched painfully at the mere idea of losing all the memories, when, in fact, they were everything that kept him alive. There would never be anything to look forward to for him again. So, all he had were blurring images in his head, filling his dreams, keeping him awake.

Swallowing a bite of steak down his unwilling throat, Jacob dared to flicker his eyes over to Bella again. There she sat, completely immobile except for the artificial and unnecessary rise and fall of her chest, and for a moment, Jacob wondered if maybe there was a chance. If maybe, he could love her just as much as he had loved the girl she once used to be.

But, who was he trying to deceive here? He felt pathetic, knowing all too well that he had been in way too deep. In a strange and twisted way, this person on the couch was indeed still his girl, only changed, different, and he would love her until he took his last breath, until the sun died and the earth slowly faded away.

It had surprised him at first, when he discovered that the more his imprint on Renesmee lost meaning, his buried feelings for Bella crept back into his consciousness. All of a sudden, he started to see beauty in the grace of her movements, lost himself in her eyes, found himself longing to be near to her. His heart clung to the last bit of hope that maybe, possibly, she was still there somewhere.

Jacob hid these feelings deep down, wrapping them up in a cocoon of lies and pretences, and only allowed them to break to the surface – always just a little bit – on rare occasions like this, when both Edward and Jasper were hunting. No one would read his thoughts or sense the turmoil of emotions that were crumbling him. He knew that the truth had to be kept secret, locked up in the vault of his heart forever.

She had chosen someone other than him, had willingly left him behind. End of story. Jake and Bells had never been, and had never been given the chance to be. And it was too late to make up for that now.

Jacob suddenly sensed movement before his eyes, and when he refocused his gaze, he could see that Bella was looking straight at him, her yellow eyes burning into his.

He tried to avoid these situations, direct eye-contact, whenever he could. Somehow, Jacob feared that if Bella looked into his eyes, she would stare right down to his soul and read the truth from his eyes the way she read words from an open book.

But over the last years, these moments seemed to have slowly increased. Moments when their gazes would meet in a room full of other people for no reason, where their eyes locked in a bond stronger than what they shared in everyone else's eyes. Jacob often wondered in these moments when he could not seem to tear his eyes away from hers, if maybe she knew it all. If she knew why his heart was still beating; unlike hers. Why he was still breathing; unlike her. How he still felt after all those years although she had sent him away and became a different person. Died, even.

For those few seconds, or hours because both of them started to lose their sense of time while they stood still and everything around them continued to turn round and round, Jacob liked to pretend and believe that she knew. That she felt the same way. That she kept _Bells _beneath the surface because that fragile girl could not survive this, but that she was still there, always waiting for him.

But then she would turn around and press a soft kiss on Edward's cheek, or she would crawl closer to him, or talk to Alice about things he knew did not interest her; everything to avoid him. Until the next time their eyes would meet and the truth would linger between them, unspoken but as sharp as a razorblade.

This was one of these moments. The tension in the room was so thick that you could cut it with a knife and Jacob felt his heartbeat pick up, the coil in his chest tightening as he stared into Bella's eyes, seeing a long lost future shining there, the golden color always so wrong, and he hoped, prayed, dearly that she knew. That he was not the only one caught in this misery.

For the shortest fragment of a second Jacob thought that he saw Bella twitch, her façade crumbling, but he immediately shook himself mentally, telling himself that nothing Bella did these days was involuntary. It was him who broke their moment, fear of the agony that always tore apart his heart every time she looked away causing him to make that step now, his eyes falling back down on to his plate.

Jacob knew that the world would keep turning and that his heart would keep beating as his surroundings slowly started to sink back into his mind, voices echoing in his ears. Esme and Alice talking about the new house they would soon move into, Renesmee and Leah chattering about the food, Emmett typing on the computer in the next room, the sound of Rosalie working on her car in the garage fainter than the rest.

They were all so painfully oblivious of the turmoil in his heart and mind, of the changes around them, of everything shattering slowly. Jacob often wondered if they really were, or if ignoring all this was something that came along with immortality. Denial. Refusal.

Hearing everyone around him so clearly, painfully reminded Jacob of the one person that was ever-present in his every pore and he suddenly felt her gaze burning against his side. He knew, before he turned his head slightly to check, that she was still staring at him. There was something in her eyes that reminded him of what he saw every morning when he looked into the mirror. A mixture between longing, sadness and confusion. Vulnerability.

And she looked so painfully beautiful.

"You know, I really think they should – Jacob, where are you going?" Renesmee asked, her hand dropping onto the dark wood surface of the table as Jacob quickly shoved back his chair and stood on his feet, fists clenched so tightly together that the skin at knuckles turned white. He could feel his blood rushing through his veins, a tremble in his entire body urging him towards the door, the primal instinct muting out every sound, every cry, every other pull than that of nature.

Jacob caught a glimpse of _her _eyes as he reached the glass door, recognizing the pleading look that was reflected there. He had seen it in a pair of chocolate brown eyes on a mountain top many years ago, begging him to stay. He had not given in back than, he would not give in now, and so Jacob pushed open the door, trying to keep himself together for as long as possible, his feet digging deep into the moist grass as he sprinted over to the edge of the forest.

The sound of ripping fabric was the last thing Jacob heard before he felt everything around him shift, becoming so much clearer.

The world turned quiet for a second, and Jacob pushed his legs faster into the forest, running into a destination he did not know, towards a goal he was not sure would ever come, the last glimpse of her pleading eyes still burning in his memory.

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I hope you liked the beginning for this story. Here is a **playlist** for the first chapter:

Broken Record - A Promise

Andrew Belle - In my Veins

Keane - We might as well be Strangers

Evermore - This Unavoidable Thing Between Us


	2. sinking like a stone in the sea

Thank you all for the great input on the start of this story. I hope you'll all enjoy the second part.

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Part 2

I'm sinking like a stone in the sea

**tautou – brand new**

Jacob felt as if he had been running for days without getting tired, no matter how weary his mind constantly seemed to feel, when, in fact, he knew he had been racing through the forest for no longer than a few minutes. He kept pushing his legs faster, feeling the forest rush past him without leaving a mark, barely feeling his paws touching the ground, it was as if he was flying.

For now, his mind was still peacefully quiet, focusing only on the rush of wind, the swirl of colours in front of his eyes, the smell of trees and nearby animals, the sensation of the muscles stretching and contracting beneath his skin.

Jacob was surprised that no one had chased after him yet, yelling, begging, pleading. Although he had been running for exactly this – quiet, peace – there was still a selfish part inside of him that was hurting at the thought of no one bothering to stop him.

Maybe they had eventually realized that the man running from them was not the boy they had taken in so many years ago.

Or maybe they just did not care. Jacob was not sure if he would make the effort to run after one of them, to rescue them. They had become his family over the decades for the sole reason that they were the only ones around, that he had no one else.

Jacob missed talking to strangers, meeting new people, discovering what secrets they were hiding and what stories they had to share. He missed looking into someone's eyes for the very first time, making new memories.

It would be so simple, technically. So very easy to just stop being who he was. To leave and never come back. To grow old and live a normal life.

But he was so tired. Too tired to start off brand new. There was no going back to the person he had once been. Jacob Black had officially died in a car crash thirty years ago, a tragedy, so young, dying just like he had once lost his mother.

He remembered reading his own obituary in the newspaper, cutting it out, keeping it hidden in his room. Sometimes, in moments when he felt like he was part of a grander game someone sick and sadistic was playing, he pulled the yellowing, wrinkled piece of paper out, staring at his name, the two dates, and wishing, for a short moment, that this piece of paper spoke the truth. That he was indeed lying in the ground, sleeping, that none of this had happened and he had crushed his Rabbit into a tree on the way to Port Angeles.

There was no going back. And he was too tired to start over as someone new, when he was already losing himself with every single second of every single endless day until the end of time.

From one second to the next, Jacob felt that he was not alone anymore, although there was not a single soul nearby. He had indeed run quite a distance in the short time that had passed.

_Jake, what the hell are you doing? Where are you going?_ Leah's voice echoed in Jacob's mind, never really a sound but more like a deeper knowledge, an echo of the memory of her voice. Jacob could see her running into the woods behind the house, could see vague figures standing in the distance, watching her disappear.

_Leave me alone, Leah. Stay where you are._

_You wish, Jake. What is wrong with you all of a sudden?_ He knew her steps were getting less forceful, the faint order behind his thoughts slowing her down against her will. But she would not give up so easily.

_I just need to be alone for a while, Leah. So, could you please just phase back and stop getting on my nerves?_

_This is not because of her, is it?_ Leah never thought the concrete name, but when her thoughts took that direction, Jacob was granted a glimpse into her memory, saw himself – tense as his muscles right now – storming towards the glass door and running off into the forest, saw Bella standing on the front porch, holding Renesmee back from following him. Although she had a strong grip on her daughter, her eyes were focused on the edge of the forest, the exact pleading in her eyes that Jacob had recognized and longed for. _Really, Jake? Still? She's not that girl anymore, Jake. You know that, right? _

_Shut up, Leah._

_Do you honestly think I didn't know, Jake? I have to share your depressing mind for thirty years now. Believe me, I know what you are thinking even when you are walking on two legs. I know you're hiding that, Jake. And I hoped it was just a phase. You have to let her go. It's been so long and with those shallow thoughts you have lately - I mean, you sometimes don't even notice when I'm phased, too – you start to lose your mind. Let her go. She's _dead_._

_Says the girl who has been crying over the same guy for all these years._ Jacob felt a twitch of guilt as he could not stop himself from thinking that thought. He could feel Leah's heart ache in his very own chest, could feel the strength leave her legs.

_That's different. He did not die._

_For all we know he might as well be dead by now. It's not any different. So stop trying to give me any advices, Leah. Go back._

Jacob could see Leah's mind drift off to a wedding where she was not the bride, a house she did not live in, children that were not her own, while he pushed his legs faster, wanting to mute her thoughts, getting farther away, testing how far he would have to go to hear nothing anymore.

Leah gathered her thoughts, while her legs slowed down to a gentle walk. _I'm not trying to force you to do anything. I'm just trying to warn you. Because… I really don't want to lose you, Jake._ The overwhelming amount of effort it cost Leah to form this thought almost weakened Jacob's knees, causing his paws to slide along the cold surface of the creek he had just jumped across.

_We never even liked each other, Leah._ The response was weak and they both knew that.

_I know. I still think you're terribly annoying, but_… Images of First Beach interrupted Leah's thoughts, blurry images of two black haired children paying in the water, then the children turned older, the little boy clinging to his sister's arm while she tried to shrug him off, the boy became older, just like his sister and they were standing by their father's grave, not daring to glance toward their mother's crying eyes next to them, everything fell apart, wolves suddenly replacing the boy and his sister, chasing through the forests of La Push, accompanied by many others who eventually turned back into human forms, smiling in Leah's memory – _you're the only one I have left._

_I never thought the day would come for you to admit that you need anyone else apart from yourself._ The dry, bitter laughter inside of Jacob died quickly, suffocating before it could even blossom properly.

_I know. Maybe I'm getting old._

_That's the thing, Leah. We're not getting any older. _

_I feel old._

_I know. Go back, Leah. _

_Where are you going? _

A swirl of images of places Jacob had once been to, and many his imagination made up were the only answer Leah got, and she understood. Away.

_So, see you soon, Jake?_

_Yeah._

And then the world turned quiet once again.

x

Jacob did not know how long he had been running without a break, but deep in his subconscious, he was aware of the sun setting and rising multiple times, every time flooding the world in a reddish glow. There was no more sense of time, no hunger or thirst, no need to sleep, even the need to breathe seemed to be shut down to the minimum.

All that existed was the moment, the speed, moving forward. For these few days, such a ridiculously small amount of time compared to what lay behind Jacob already, the world seemed to make sense again. Being outside in the forest, smelling the woodsy, fresh scent, hearing the birds sing above his head, feeling the uneven ground crumbling beneath his paws – to Jacob, this felt more like home than any place they had lived in over the last years.

He was never a person to be unsettled and roaming around the world without a goal. Jacob Black was homebound. La Push had been his home his entire young life and never had he considered living anywhere else. And even if the circumstances had required him to leave that place, he had been sure that there was some place he would call his home for the rest of his life.

Instead, Jacob and the family his archenemies had become to him, had been moving from place to place like locusts, feeding from what the place had to offer before moving to the next.

Their vegetarian lifestyle had become equally sickening to him as the image of drinking human blood. It disgusted him when he joined them for the hunt, mostly because the pull on Renesmee was too strong to stay behind while she left, or because it would sometimes take him to places he had not been to before. But whenever he saw the blood glistening against their teeth, the terrifyingly graceful way they killed their prey, it made him nauseous. They were predators. He had known that from the very beginning. Monsters.

Still, he had allowed them to lull him into a slumber, making him numb for the cruel images he was confronted with every single day. Slowly, ever so slowly, had had woken up. Seeing things for what they really were. Devious. Abnormal.

But out here, in nature, Jacob had a feeling that there was still good and normal things in the world, that it was still turning perfectly healthy for so many other people out there, and he felt selfish for pitying himself. It was just him, one poor, lost, homeless soul.

The closest thing to home was this, running away from the prison that his life had become.

Jacob slowly started to perceive his surroundings more. Everything suddenly become sharper, clearer, the colours brighter, the warmth of sunlight breaking through the trees tickling his muzzle. It had been a long time since this had happened, but Jacob immediately recognized this as some kind of sixth sense he only possessed when he was in this savage, libidinal stage.

His pace slowed down from a race to a slow walk, his paws digging deep into the dry, soft ground, earth sticking to the soles, as he inhaled deeply, eyes closed, concentrating only on the senses he could trust.

Eyes only betrayed, deceived, formed wrongs, hallucinations.

Faint, distant, quiet voices filled Jacob's ears, and for a bittersweet second, he felt as if he was sixteen again, running enthusiastically through the woods of La Push and hearing faint voices just like that in the milliseconds it took a couple of his pack members to phase before they voices turned louder in his head.

But that was just an old memory, and these were not just echoes of voices in his head. These were real voices. Human voices. Voices that Jacob did not know.

He opened his eyes slowly, surprised by how green everything around him was, glistering in the sunlight.

The voices came from his right side, and, feeling the muscles in his massive body twitch in foreign anticipation, he turned in the direction, slowly stepping closer to the source. There were humans, actual people, here. They were real. Strangers.

Jacob moved slowly but deliberately, carefully setting his steps, avoiding branches that would give him away. He wanted to slap himself for that thought. Those people would never be able to hear him. Leah was right, just like he had known. He was indeed losing his mind, any grasp onto reality. He had spent decades in the company of supernatural creatures that should not even exist, and had forgotten, that not everyone could hear as sharp as he and they could.

Once upon a time, he had told Bella of a place with no monsters and no magic. That world, the utopia he had longed for for so long, was slowly slipping through his fingers.

The forest around Jacob started to become lighter, less dense, more light flooding through the branches, as the voices got louder. What he was doing was dangerous and Jacob knew that, but it was some kind of magnetic pull that kept him going, the need to see with his own eyes what normality and reality was. The evidence that it still existed out there.

He stopped immediately when he could see a mostly empty parking lot that apparently marked the beginning of multiple hiking trails. Keeping safely hidden behind the trees and bushes, Jacob watched a small family unpacking the trunk of their car.

The young boy, not older than six, was jumping around the car, while his parents put on two heavy-looking backpacks. The woman had long brown hair, pulled back in a tight ponytail, her face glowing from the fresh wind, her high cheekbones making her look ethereal. She knelt down to zip up her son's jacket, a look on her face that Jacob vaguely remember seeing on his mother's face when he was younger. But, for all he knew, it might not actually be a memory but wishful thinking. Another fantasy. He barely remembered her at all.

"Stella, honey, where are the car keys?" the man asked, his red hair shining in the sunlight, his skin pale and covered with freckles.

"Here," Stella answered, reaching her hand out towards him, pressing a gentle kiss on her son's forehead.

"Mommy, when do we start?" the little boy asked impatiently, fumbling with the string of his own backpack.

"As soon as Daddy has everything ready, sweetie. Let's be a little patient," Stella said calmly, smiling crookedly at her son.

The little boy's groan mixed with the _thud_ of the trunk closing.

"He really is your son, honey. Always just going for it without planning or thinking. You're going to get yourself killed out there one day if you don't start taking some precautions," the man said in an easy tone, whispering the last parts into Stella's ear before kissing her cheek gently.

Jacob felt tears gather in his eyes, blurring his eyesight as he heard the young woman laugh warmly, before the small family made their way to one of the hiking trails, their son in the middle, holding his parents' hands.

The tears that now soaked his russet fur surprised Jacob, after all these years in which every kind of emotion had become so indifferent to him and nothing was worth shedding tears anymore.

But seeing this, everything he had been denied of and would never be able to experience, tore at Jacob's weary soul. Anger and sadness mixed inside of him as he watched their human forms slowly disappear between the trees, hearing their carefree laughter.

That should have been him kissing Bella's cheek, taking their son hiking in the woods. It should have been him worrying about his wife's life, it should have been Bella zipping up their son's coat.

Everything Jacob had wanted in life was now disappearing with them in between the trees. _No monsters and no magic…_

He had promised to fight for her until her heart stopped beating. Instead, he had given up too early, and had allowed her to pull him into a net he could not escape anymore.

The sun rose higher with every passing second, and by the time Jacob had gathered himself back together, the heat of noon had dried his tears. He turned around, running back toward his original path, not that he had a specific route, but he tried to walk straight forward, always forward. Dry branches were crunching beneath his paws, a nearby creek rustling melodically, a soft breeze dancing through the tops of the trees.

Then, as sudden as a strike of lightening, Jacob stopped in his tracks. Like a brick thrown at his face he suddenly saw a pair of chocolate brown eyes in front of his inner eye, looking pleadingly at him. He could hear her gentle voice whispering his name, felt the pain he had inflicted on her by running away.

It was a miracle it had taken so long for the imprint to reattach it's strings onto his mind and every limb. But before he knew what he was doing, Jacob had changed course, like an inner compass always pointing towards her, pulling him back like a magnet.

He knew now. This was as far as he could get away. Never further. She would always bring him back.

Faster and faster he ran, the pull of the imprint giving him speed, fed by his insatiable anger that he kept pumping into his muscles before it could blast his brain apart.

There was no escape. Running away was not an option. He would have to go back to lying and pretending, to be what Renesmee needed him to be. To feel his own heart shattering a bit more each day, every second he laid eyes upon the person his Bells had become.

Jacob Black had always had a huge heart. But even the biggest heart had a breaking point. And there were not many more pieces left to shatter.

* * *

Here is the **playlist** for the second part:

Brand New - Tautou

Coldplay - The Scientist

Clint Mansell - The Last Man

Keane - A Bad Dream


	3. not ready to let go

Part 3

not ready to let go / cause then I'd never know / what I could be missing

**jason walker – down**

It did not take Jacob as long to get back as it had taken him to get away. Much too soon he started to sense an odd feeling of familiarity, felt the pull that kept him running, slowly getting weaker as he got closer.

The sun was rising again and with every step he took, Jacob started to become more aware of himself and everything rushing past him. He started to feel the unpleasant way his tongue was sticking to his dry palate, the painful, hollow ache in his stomach, the burning of his muscles.

The closer he got, the colder everything seemed to become. And then, ever so slowly, Jacob started to become aware of the sickening sweet scent that caused his instincts to raise an alarm. This foolproof sign for danger was rooted deep inside of him. Only now that he had been absent for a few days did Jacob realize how god awful this smell was, how it burned inside his nose, causing his stomach to clench uncomfortably. It was disgusting.

Suddenly, between the rustling of trees, the birds singing and the wind rushing past his ears, Jacob could hear familiar, crystal clear voices in the distance, all mingled together which made it difficult for him to decipher any meaning behind the words.

But one thing was sure; they knew he was coming back. If he was able to smell them, they must have picked up his scent by now, as well. Jacob tried not to listen too closely, trying not to let whatever words were spoken come too close to him.

His steps slowed down to a steady walk as he reached the border of the forest, eyeing slivers of the old brick house in the meadow, mostly hidden behind the trees. Their voices had turned silent, and Jacob was sure that Edward had ordered that, reading the resentment in his thoughts.

Jacob realized that he was standing at the exact same place of the forest line, through which he had escaped a few days ago. He had been following his own steps back. A pair of neatly folded jeans lay on the grass, oddly out of place.

Holding the piece of fabric between his teeth – he had always hated the taste of denim in his mouth – Jacob retreated a few steps back into the forest, knowing that the trees would not actually provide him with much privacy, but keeping up the charade nonetheless.

It had been many years since Jacob had last spent multiple days in a row as a wolf, and the longer he did, the harder it was to phase back. He had never found the right words to describe phasing, but it was not a conscious decision, not like a switch he could turn on and off. It was instinctive, and the fact that he had it mostly under control after all these years made it less savage, however, never a conscious decision, either. There was no specific movement he had to make, no certain thought to think, no order to give. It just had to happen.

The problem was that Jacob did not really want it to happen. He needed to find a way to force the wolf out of him, something that went completely against his nature.

But, before he could start fighting a part of himself he felt needed to be controlled, something else made the decision for him.

A weak whimper from inside the house stabbed every single nerve in his body, causing him to tremble. _Please_. And before Jacob knew what was happening, he was standing on two feet again, smaller, shorter, naked, sweaty.

He knew they were holding her back, she would have been here minutes ago. And although he was grateful for the tiny bit of privacy, he could not help but clench his fists to keep the anger under control that started to boil hotly inside of him at the mere thought of someone holding Renesmee back, stopping her from running outside.

To suddenly be standing on just two feet was strangely unsteady, yet familiar. Like a faint memory. Jacob's legs were trembling while trying to keep him standing straight.

He quickly stepped into the jeans, realizing immediately that it was a brand new pair – he hated the feeling of new jeans, when they were cold, unworn, rigid, feeling like a foreign object. With trembling fingers he zipped up the pants, not bothering with the useless button.

Taking a deep breath through his mouth, the sticky scent still too fresh to be endured, Jacob started walking carefully towards the end of the tree line, not as sure on his feet as he was in his wolf form. As more and more of the house came into view, Jacob recognized the small woman bursting down the stairs, running across the damp lawn towards him. He felt the strings inside of him pull him further and quicker towards her, strings that she had attached to his heart the moment she was born.

The tidal wave of guilt that crashed over Jacob as Renesmee jumped at him, arms clinging to his shoulders, legs wrapped around his middle, face buried in the crook of his neck, was indescribable. He knew it was not guilt he should feel, yet he did.

Jacob could feel his arms wrap weakly around Renesmee's trembling body, sobs ripping through her as tears pearled against the warm skin of Jacob's neck.

"What is going on, Jacob? Leah wouldn't say anything and I was so confused and they wouldn't let me run after you, and please just tell me what is wrong and we can talk about it or make it better and if I did something wrong than you have to tell me because I could never forgive myself if I hurt you, so please, _please_, Jacob. Talk to me. Did I do anything?" Renesmee murmured frantically against his neck, clinging to him as if she was afraid he would make a run for it again.

Jacob could never lie to her. Never would his lips be able to form any words that did her any harm. The only corner he had left to sneak into was that of withholding information.

"No, Nessie. You didn't do anything wrong," he whispered reassuringly into her ear, kissing her cheek, feeling her calm down in his arms. She indeed had not done anything wrong. He could not blame her, which made it even harder for him to accept his dependent attachment to her. She was in no way the villain in his story. Not the slightest clue about the power she had over him would ever come into her mind.

"I was so worried. I thought you weren't going to come back," Renesmee cried, moving her head back just enough to be able to look Jacob into the eye.

"Shhh, I'm here now," he whispered, his lips pulling apart to form something that must appear to be a comforting smile to her. Renesmee nodded, before untangling herself from him, keeping her right hand on his shoulder as she turned around the face the house, wiping a stray tear from her glistering cheek.

Only now did Jacob allow his eyes to focus on the front porch of the old house. The scenery was too perfect to be real, there was too much breathtaking, agonizing beauty. It was terrifying, as if he was looking at a painting in a museum.

Rosalie stood directly by the door as if she had been dragged outside against her will, wearing a blue jumpsuit (she had been working on the many cars in the garage more and more after Renesmee had grown out of rompers and pink dresses), holding a hand against Emmett's arm (who seemed to be less and less quick witted these days). Carlisle had his arms wrapped around Esme, Alice sat on the stone balustrade, her short legs dangling off the edge. Jasper stood behind her and Emmett, almost hidden, as if he were shielding himself from something. Leah stood away from all them, arms crossed in front of her chest. Jacob's eyes lingered on all of them a second longer than necessary, but eventually, he dared to face Bella and Edward. Much to his surprise, she stood a foot apart from him, not appearing to take any notice.

Instinctively, Jacob knew that something was wrong, that there was a flaw in the picture. It took the sight of Bella capturing her bloodless bottom lip between her sharp teeth for him to realize what he had been missing.

The look on all their faces.

Fear.

This was not quite the reaction Jacob had expected. What were they afraid of? That he was going on a rampage? Freak out? Lose his mind entirely? Attack them? A suicide commando?

It was a hesitant, creeping kind of fear that shone in their eyes. There was more to this gathering than merely his return. Had he honestly expected a warm welcome from Rosalie? Maybe Alice was hiding party hats somewhere – she would probably find a reason to celebrate the outbreak of World War III. Had Jasper ever showed any kind of affection towards him, or pretty much anyone for that matter, except Alice?

No, Jacob had not really expected them to welcome him back in any special kind of way. Awkward silence, maybe questions. He had counted on coming back and living on just like he had before, fitting himself back into their perfect little puzzle.

"What's going on?" he asked Renesmee, although he knew that everyone else could hear just as clearly.

Renesmee's face look strangely crooked, as if there were words lingering on her tongue and she was not capable of speaking them out loud (Jacob wondered if he looked the same), and suddenly, Jacob recognized a hint of the same fear in her eyes that was reflecting from the front porch.

"Jacob?"

This had been the last voice he had expected to speak to him. Bella sounded meek, her eyes trying hard to avoid meeting Jacob's directly.

"What?" he asked, not intending to sound as harsh as he had. But if they were not going to tell him what was going on soon, he was sure he had every right to be pissed.

Bella swallowed and Jacob felt nauseous as he saw her throat rise and fall quickly. It was all so unnecessary, so artificial.

"Maybe we should… go and… talk," she said quietly, kneading her hands. She must feel immensely uncomfortable if she started to fall back into old behaviour patterns that did not come naturally to her any longer.

"Why?" Jacob asked harshly again. It felt as if they were dancing on hot coals, trying to avoid the inevitable sting of heat.

"There's something…you should know. But, I don't think you want to talk about this right here. We could walk a little bit."

Edward pulled his right hand out of his pocket, resting it on Bella's shoulder, while she just stared ahead, trying hard not to look _too deep_. What was this game they were playing?

"Why can't you just tell me now?"

He felt Renesmee's hand grip his shoulder a bit harder, brushing her thumb an inch against his collarbone, looking at him pleadingly.

"Go with Mom, Jacob. It's better that way, believe me," she said, smiling at him with a twisted mixture of fear and sadness.

He hated it when she called her _Mom_. Looking at the two of them, everyone would think they were sisters, the exact same age, neither of them more mature than the other. Looking at them as mother and daughter was such an abstract concept, that Jacob usually tried to block it out.

Looking back at Bella, Jacob nodded surely. As if that had been the command everyone had been waiting for, the others started to move back inside, Leah throwing a sad glance in Jacob's direction.

Edward kissed Bella's cheek, eliciting no response from her, before he too, walked back inside the old house.

"I'll see you later," Renesmee said quietly, kissing Jacob's cheek before dancing across the lawn and up the stone stairs, disappearing into the house with a last distressed glance at her mother.

Jacob stood on the damp lawn, not looking at Bella but focussing on the red brick wall behind her. It reminded him strangely of how her eyes had once been, only for a short while but devious and unbearable to look at nonetheless. Except for the rise and fall of his chest with every breath he took, Jacob did not move an inch, waiting for Bella to take the first step this time.

The world seemed even more twisted than usual, and as Bella walked down the stairs, her bare feet made almost no noise, even to his excellent ears. She kept her pace human, slow, crossing the wide lawn and walking towards a different part of the forest than the one Jacob had emerged from a few minutes ago.

No words were spoken, silence wrapping them up. Bella had already reached the line of trees when Jacob started following her, not rushing, not minding the gap between them.

Bella was wearing a pair of old, well-worn jeans, a white blouse, her long mahogany hair cascading down her back. As she stepped gracefully between the trees, she looked ethereal, like a beauty from an ancient time.

There seemed to be no rush, both of them taking small, deliberate steps, Bella leading him deep into the forest without saying a word. He did not even hear her take a useless breath.

"So, why exactly are we here?" Jacob finally asked, breaking the numb silence between them.

His words seemed to float past Bella, not leaving any impact on her. She merely continued her small, slow steps, keeping her head straight, her hair gently waving with every move.

"Bella?"

"Let's just walk a bit more," she said quietly, stretching out her hand to brush it along the bark of a tree.

Jacob suddenly felt the weight of his journey crushing down on him. His empty stomach, the thirst, his eyelids heavily fluttering in front of his eyes. Still, he kept walking. It seemed to be his destiny, his assignment in life. Keep going. No matter what.

When they reached a small creek, Bella suddenly stopped walking with no sign of slowness – she just stopped in her tracks. She waited for Jacob to walk up next to her, not moving an inch. He could see from his peripheral vision, that she was biting her lower lip again, nibbling with teeth that killed deer on a regular basis.

Jacob drew his eyes away from her, kneeling down onto the muddy ground, sinking his hands into the ice cold, crystal clear stream of the creek. Using his hands as a cup, he lowered his head, taking a big gulp of the icy water, feeling it run down his throat, cooling him, sating his thirsts, wetting his tongue so he could breathe more easily.

"You're hungry," Bella stated, not asking, not really looking at Jacob. He just shrugged, taking another gulp before drying his hands on his new jeans, standing up again.

Something caught his eye then that made his stomach clench painfully, the cold water filling his stomach threatening to come back up his throat again. An old, dead, thick branch lay right by the creek. Images of a sandy beach played behind Jacob's eyes like an unwanted movie, images of bonfires and a driftwood log that had meant so much more.

He moved without really wanting to, the sudden flood of memories sickening him, yet, he could not help himself. Crossing the small creek with one big step, he ran his hands over the mossy old branch before sitting down on it.

For one small second, the feeling of the old wood and the sound of the water running past cast him back into his swirl of memories, into a past he both wanted to forget and cherish.

"Rachel called," Bella suddenly said carefully, still staring ahead. Jacob felt a shallow ache in his chest as the images in his head slowly blurred and slipped through his fingers.

"Who?" he asked confused, not having expected Bella to say anything anytime soon.

His question seemed to wake Bella up from whatever self-protective slumber she had been in, and she looked at him with pure sadness in her golden eyes. Slowly, so much slower than she was capable of, she crossed the creek as well, kneeling down next to Jacob.

He flinched a little when she rested one of her cold, pale hands on his knee, but he could not find the words or movements to push her away.

"Rachel. Your sister," she whispered, looking at him as if she wanted to ask if he still remembered her.

"Oh," Jacob murmured, now understanding the look on her face. How could he not have known who she was talking about? Then again, he had not heard from his sister in over twenty years. He did not even know that she knew how to contact them. "Why did she call?"

For the first time since he had emerged from the forest, Jacob dared to look straight into Bella's eyes. And she looked right back.

"Jacob, Billy… He's dead," Bella whispered, not breaking eye contact. "I'm so sorry."

For what seemed like a century, the world stopped turning, his heart stopped beating, and Bella's eyes were the only constants in the universe. Everything Jacob could hold on to. He never felt her take his hand, did not bother with the cold. All he felt was that there was something there that held him were he was, and kept him from falling apart.

Of course, he had known this day would eventually come. Some nights, when he was looking at the few old photos he had kept, he had wondered if it might have already happened without him noticing. If his father was already gone.

It was not exactly sadness that Jacob felt, not the grief he had expected. Guilt dominated him. Guilt that he had not been there to tell his father goodbye, that he had not been with him. He had failed him. Instead of being there and taking care of him, he had just left him behind, ran away and never came back.

The world suddenly materialized again around him, as he felt Bella's cold thumb gently wipe away tears he had not realized he'd been shedding. She was still looking at him, her eyes as soft as they could be, softer than he had seen her since she became this stranger.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated, so quiet that even Jacob had problems understanding her. He even wondered if she had not spoken to him at all, but whispered it to herself.

"Had to happen, eventually," Jacob said hoarsely, grabbing her wrist with his free hand, pulling her hand away from his face – however, not letting go of it.

"Don't say that, Jacob."

"It's true, though," he said, looking deep into her eyes, silently speaking the words his lips could not form. _This is the way it is supposed to be_.

She knew. He could see it so clearly in her eyes. Maybe, she could indeed read into his soul when she looked at him like this.

"What do you think about going home?"

It took a few seconds of silence for the words to sink in, the rushing of the creek causing Jacob to feel light headed.

"I like it here, I think I'll stay a little longer," he answered, his voice thick and husky from the tears he had shed.

"That's not what I mean," Bella whispered, rising herself higher on her knees so she was almost facing Jacob. His throat burned as he took a breath, the sweet scent that seemed to be etched onto her every single hair and pore prickling in his nose. She was so close, he would feel her breath on his skin if she were breathing.

"I want to go _home_."

"What do you mean?" Jacob asked, wondering if she was not bothered by his own scent so close to her.

As she freed her hand from the loose grip of his fingers, Bella rested her cold hand against Jacob's still damp cheek, smiling weakly at him.

"I've been wanting to go back to Forks for a while. I just… never said anything. But…I thought, maybe you would… want to, as well. Just for a little while," Bella whispered, not moving, her gaze so much stronger than her nervous voice.

"Why didn't you just go?" Jacob asked, trying to suppress the urge to rest his free hand against _her_ cheek, the tips of his fingers aching to touch her skin.

"It wouldn't be the same. It's our home, right? It only seems right if we went there together."

Jacob's heart was racing, his mind and heart unable to handle all of this. He had failed his father, lost his mind, and here was Bella, looking at him as if things had never changed between them, as if it was a simple decision to go back to the place he had once lost her.

"Please, Jacob," she begged, for a millisecond sounding like his girl again, pleading for him to stay.

Jacob heard himself whisper _Okay_ before he felt his lips move, the shy smile on Bella's face so achingly beautiful that he felt new tears gather in his eyes. She raised herself even higher, softly, very lightly, pressing her ice cold lips against his forehead, murmuring _thank you_ against his warm skin.

* * *

Here is the **playlist** for this part:

Jason Walker - Down

Max Richter - On the Nature of Daylight

Clint Michigan - Hawethorne to Hennepin

Keane - Somewhere only we know


	4. I'm thirsty for you love

Part 4

come feed the rain / cause I'm thirsty for you love dancing underneath the skies of lust

**poets of the fall – carnival of rust**

The sun was setting again by the time Jacob and Bella made it back to the house with slow steps, side by side this time. Neither of them said anything, both lost in their thoughts, weighing the impact of their plans.

Jacob could not deny that the desire to see his old home again had overcome him many times, urges to just run across the country and see, with his very own eyes, what had become of the familiar place.

The smell emerging from the kitchen had almost been enough to make up for the sticky sweet scent that clung to everything, and Jacob felt water gathering in his mouth at the promise of food. His stomach had constantly been grumbling all the way back through the dense forest.

Most of the Cullens, as well as Leah, were scattered around the house, leaving Esme, Edward and a nervous looking Renesmee the only ones in the kitchen.

Just as Bella and Jacob quietly entered the room, steam dampening the glass window behind the kitchenette, Edward stood up from the bar stool, his eyes hard and determined.

"No, Bella."

Jacob tried to ignore the sight of Bella's eyes hardening in his peripheral vision, instead shooting a weak smile in Renesmee's direction to reassure her he was fine. She sighed, climbing from her chair and dancing across the kitchen towards him. Every time Jacob saw her walking, her steps always so elaborate and yet light, he had to suppress a bitter laugh. She had spent too much time with Alice. Apparently, she would always be a child inside, as much as she had grown physically.

"I'm really sorry, Jacob," she murmured, hugging him tightly.

"You can't go, Bella," Edward's voice said sternly, stepping closer to Bella, who made a step back.

"Why?" Her voice was quiet, not as fierce as her eyes promised. He still had her dancing at the tips of his fingers, after all these years. But Jacob had given up pitying her and being angry at him a long time ago. It was not his task to save her anymore. She would have to do that on her own.

"Because it's dangerous. The other pack is still there, it's only been thirty years, people might see you. You're supposed to look as if you were almost fifty years old, Bella. And Jacob is supposed to be dead. It's too dangerous."

Esme had stopped stirring the sauce on the stove, stepping a bit closer, resting a hand on Edward's shoulder.

"No, Esme. It _is_ dangerous," Edward said without looking at his adoptive mother, before she had the chance to open her mouth.

"Edward, you know I hate it when you do that. Let her talk," Bella said grumpily, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Jacob gently removed Renesmee from his arms, smiling down at her.

"I don't think there is a reason for you not to go, Bella. Of course, you will have to be careful not to attract attention, but I trust that you will be capable of doing that."

Jacob looked at Bella carefully, seeing her throw a thankful smile at Esme.

"Then I'll go with you," Edward declared, his eyes flickering over to Jacob for a fragment of a second. From the exerted expression in his eyes, Jacob knew immediately that his thoughts were mute to Edward, that Bella was shielding his mind.

Bella sighed, stepping towards him. Jacob could see from the look on Edward's face that Bella was talking to him inside her head. Esme knew, as well, removing her hand from Edward's shoulder and walking over to Jacob.

"My condolences, Jacob. I'm very sorry," she said, brushing her hand against Jacob's cheek.

He swallowed hard, nodding shortly at Esme. She smiled warmly at him, walking back to the stove.

Renesmee's hand suddenly grasped Jacob's, and he looked back at her. Her forehead was wrinkled in worry, and she was staring at her parents' silent conversation.

Jacob sighed, brushing his thumb against the back of her head, leading her towards one of the many chairs. He was hungry. This was between Bella and Edward, and he had no right to intervene.

Renesmee sat down next to him, never letting go of his hand, still looking at her parents. This was a rare sight for her, such a tensed moment between them. They had been more regular at a time when the nature of Jacob's imprint had been unsure. But ever since their bonds had been set steadily, Bella and Edward usually never had a reason to contradict each other. Jacob had to stop himself from chuckling bitterly, knowing that the reason for their alikeness was the mere fact that Bella would never dare to say anything against Edward or refuse him in any way.

"Fine," Edward suddenly said coolly, rushing past Bella, leaving a charged silence in the kitchen.

"We're leaving tomorrow," Bella said to Jacob, not a single emotion stirring on her features, before she left the room, as well.

"How long are you going to stay?" Renesmee asked, sounding agitated from the scene she just had to witness.

"I don't know, really. I don't think it'll be too long," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

x

It was the first time in a long time for Jacob to be on a plane. He had never really liked it much, the empty feeling in his stomach at take off, the bumpy flights, the always too small seats, the thud while landing. Not to mention the stares that were guaranteed in the massive crowd at the airports.

Usually, whenever they moved from place to place, the Cullens, Leah and him went by car, avoiding the attention it would surely draw when they had to hire someone to transport seven expensive cars and three motorcycles.

But more than the unusual way of transportation, the promise of going home made Jacob's head run on overdrive, his temples aching under the pressure. Only a few hours and they would be _home_. A place they had not been to in thirty years.

His palms were sweaty as they gripped the arm rest of his seat. The flicker of guilt inside of him for leaving Renesmee only a day after his return was not big enough to actually cause the strings inside of him to pull – she had let him go, after all. Why would she be against him visiting his old home?

Still, their goodbye this morning had felt strange, constrained and tense. She had clung to him a little tighter and longer than usual, had ignored the rather cold embrace of her parents. It had been Alice who had driven them to the airport, humming to the radio the entire way.

"Jacob, are you alright?"

Jacob jerked his head to his left, surprised by the sudden sound of Bella's voice. He had been so deep in thought that he had almost forgotten that she was here, too. So close, her arms only inches from his, the coolness of her skin radiating against the warmth of his.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured her, loosening his death grip on the arm rest, "Just don't like flying that much."

Bella huffed, flickering through the airline's magazine without really looking at it.

"You probably shouldn't have eaten so much this morning," she said mockingly, turning her head to smile at him. Still, behind the smile, he could see the tension dominating her mind. Even if she did not mind flying, the prospect of returning to the place where all this had started, troubled her as much as him.

"Bella?" Jacob asked, ignoring her attempt to lighten the mood. In a sad way, it reminded him of the ease that used to determine their friendship all these years back. Jake and Bells knew no awkward silence. But this was Jacob and Bella. There would be no ease, not ever.

"Hmm?"

"Why are we doing this?"

There was a silent second in which Bella seemed to outweigh her answers inside her head, before she mechanically stuffed the magazine back into the net at the back of the seat in front of her, looking at Jacob's shoulder instead of his face.

"I wanted to go back for a while, but I… didn't want to go alone. And… I wanted to go with someone who really understands why I need to go," she whispered, fumbling with the sleeve of her black blouse.

"But why do you want to go?"

Jacob needed no actions, his words alone, the strength behind them, were enough for Bella to raise her chin, nervously, almost shyly looking into Jacob's eyes.

"I just…," she began weakly, her voice broken, literally sounding as if she had to force herself to speak, and Jacob hated to see her like this. It made him feel bad, forcing these words out of her, so he raised his hand from the arm rest, giving in to the urge he had felt before, resting it against Bella's cheek, much like she had done yesterday. To his surprise, the coldness did not bother him that much. It was just a flicker too cold, but enough to endure, her skin as smooth as marble, and really just as hard at the same time.

Jacob's heartbeat started to pick up as Bella's eyelids fluttered closed, and she gently pushed more of her face against his warm hand.

"I know, Bella," he whispered, closing his own eyes, not moving, scarcely breathing. Just being for now.

She had not chosen him, had left him broken on his bed in his childhood room to go out and die, become his archenemy. Jacob knew that she had made her choice and was existing – never living – with it. Never did he have to doubt that Bella was absolutely satisfied. After all, she had gotten everything she had wanted and more. If he were cruelly honest, he would have to say that she had no right to be unhappy.

But in this moment, his hand barely touching her cold skin, a new page of Bella was unfolding itself, and Jacob suddenly had to realize that he was not the only one who kept a heavy secret behind his heart.

x

It felt surreal, as if he was cast into one of his dreams in which he was running through the familiar forest, hearing the faint rush of the ocean in the west. Everything looked just like he remembered.

They had checked into a hotel in Port Angeles, knowing they could not stay in Forks or La Push. It had not been long enough, the time that had passed. Bella would be recognize by people, they would be puzzled by them. So, they had rented a car and driven the hour it took to get back home, each mile they drove causing the anticipation and fear inside of them to reach a breaking point. No words had been spoken since their moment of truth on the plane. Neither of them really knew what to say.

Here they stood now, on a deserted parking lot, close to the old treaty line that separated the reservation from the area the Cullens used to reside in. Before they had left with Jacob, Leah and Seth, the Cullens, Sam and Jacob had agreed that there was no more point to the treaty, and that the only rule that should be regarded was, should the Cullens ever return, they were not allowed to hunt on Quileute land.

The sky was a deep shade of grey, the rain that was falling light, almost like a sprinkle on skin. The dampness caused every scent in the forest to double, and Jacob inhaled deeply, refreshing his dusted memory.

They knew they could not drive much further than this – they would have to walk the rest of the way. Jacob knew how the people in La Push reacted to cars they had not seen in town before, their curiosity might be to their disadvantage. Bella closed the door of their car, looking around dreamful, her eyes foggy, as if she were not really here.

"Let's go," Jacob said, feeling both anxiety and eagerness to go further. He was home, after all. Still, there were so many things he might not know about, things that would surely have changed over the years. Not to mention the memory of his father haunting him every time he closed his eyes, his heart feeling heavy with guilt.

Together, side by side – almost like they used to in the old days – Bella and Jacob disappeared between the trees, knowing they had to stay hidden. Jacob was leading the way, knowing exactly where he had to go first, where his heart was leading him. Even if he could not quite figure out why they were here today, ever, he knew one thing for sure: he had to say goodbye.

"Maybe we should have waited until a little later, dusk, at least," Bella said quietly, not sounding critical, but worried. Edward must have poisoned her with the fear of being caught, identified. Jacob only sighed, casting her a reassuring look.

"Don't worry, we'll be fine."

Bella nodded unbelievingly, taking in the woods around them.

"It smells just the same," she whispered, inhaling the scent just like Jacob had done before. For a second he wondered if she was smelling the same thing he did, if there was a difference.

"Where are we going, Jacob?"

"Visit my Dad," Jacob said, looking expectantly at Bella. She tilted her head very slightly to the side, a gesture he had not seen her doing very often, always wondering where Renesmee had gotten in from.

"Okay," she said gently, falling back into the silence that seemed their constant companion.

It only took them a few minutes of silent walking, to turn their heads towards each other, both of them starting to hear a faint voice in the distance.

"There are a lot of people," Bella stated calmly, not slowing her walk, "I smell a lot of blood."

"You're fine, right?" Jacob asked, never really trusting any vampire's control. He knew what instincts were, knew the savage control they had over any actions.

"Of course, I'm fine," Bella assured him, but Jacob could see that she had stopped taking fake breaths, "It's his funeral, Jacob."

Jacob gulped, not having considered that, the fear of having to stop Bella from slaughtering half of the town having been a priority.

"When did Rachel call?" he asked, feeling his skin tingle, nervousness and fear creeping into his pores.

"Two days ago. Are you sure you want to go?"

They kept walking, the voice getting louder and clearer to their ears, heartbeats drumming, sobs mixing with the rush of the ocean and the whispering of the trees.

"Yeah. We'll just… wait behind the trees," Jacob decided, trying to sound stronger than he felt.

As they kept going, the voice suddenly disappeared, only sobs and breaths mingling with the sounds of nature.

"We're almost there," Jacob said, and a few minutes later, they could see light casting between the trees, the forest making room for a vast meadow, which held the graveyard.

Bella and Jacob both slowed down their steps, careful to stay hidden behind the trees as they approached as far as they could, keeping a safe distance.

A large group of people was gathered in a circle on the graveyard, all of them solemnly quiet. It was difficult to make out any faces, many of them were carrying umbrellas to hold back the filigree rain drops, most were turned away from where Jacob and Bella hid between the trees.

"Do you think he knows I'm here?" Jacob asked, trying to swallow the knot in his throat. His voice was husky, thick with the tears he was trying to hold at bay.

"Oh, Jacob," Bella whispered, moving closer to him, shivers running up Jacob's arm as she intertwined her fingers with his, "I'm sure he does."

The two of them stood there, completely immobile, their hands forming one. Jacob grasped her hand tighter, knowing he could not hurt her so easily, ignoring how _wrong _this felt.

"I deserted him, Bella. I just left him."

"Jacob," Bella whispered, leaning her head against his side, "Don't do this to yourself. He knew, Jacob. He understood."

Jacob tore his eyes away from the mourners, looking down at Bella's head resting against him, her eyes closed, her fingers holding on to his.

"I'm his son, Bella. I should have been there for him," he answered, mesmerized by the shadows that Bella's lashes were casting against her white skin, the feeling of her fingertips drawing tiny circled in his palm.

Bella said nothing, did nothing but stay by his side.

The sudden sound of footsteps coming into their direction caused the both of them to jerk apart, Bella's instinctively revealing her teeth.

"We should go," she said as they watched the man approach, his slow steps not disguising his determination.

Bella had already turned around, making a quick step back when Jacob caught her arm.

"Wait," he said, concentrating, eying the man's face intently, knowing he was stared back at, "That's Embry."

Bella turned around, wiggling out of Jacob's grip and casting a clearer gaze at the approaching figure.

Jacob felt his stomach clench, his heartbeat race, memories of getting drunk for the first time, stealing dirty magazines from the local store, days spent in the garage working on scrap metal flooding his mind like a tornado, everything crushing down on him.

Embry had reached the line of the trees, slowly stepping over fallen branches, his eyes never leaving the two dreamlike figures standing within the forest.

He came to a halt a few yards away from them, his face marked with wonder, eyes flickering between Bella and Jacob.

The three old friends were silent for a few minutes, just staring at each other, surprised gripping a strong hold on their minds.

"Jake? Bella?" Embry finally said very quietly, as if he were afraid to burst a bubble if he spoke too loudly.

Jacob had not expected to actually meet someone, although he could not deny having thought about what his old friends were doing on many occasions. But he had come to terms with the belief that he would never know, that they had stepped out of his life eternally. But here he stood in front of his old best friend, feeling as if he just met a stranger.

Embry was still well built, not as pronounced as he had been the last time they had met, but he looked healthy, his shoulder-length black hair shimmering with a hint of grey in the somber light. His face looked so much older, fine wrinkles around his eyes, deep laugh lines framing his lips.

"Why are you here?" he asked, not accusingly, but with honest confusion, his eyes now glued on Jacob.

"Rachel called," Jacob answered shortly, still not sure how to behave. It felt like a déja vu, seeing his old friend. But he had not been his friend in too long. They knew nothing about each other anymore.

"Oh," Embry murmured, the proof of his grief now evident on his face.

"We thought we should… visit," Bella explained, her voice careful, probing how far she could go. Where the new lines were.

Embry nodded, his eyes searching for Jacob again.

"You haven't aged a day," he almost whispered with a mesmerized undertone.

Jacob laughed bitterly, feeling Bella tense next to him.

"Believe me, I have."

There was an awkward silence, and Embry did not quite seem to understand the weight of Jacob's words. Jacob suddenly felt Bella's hand press against his back, out of Embry's sight, steadying him.

"So, how are Leah and Seth?" Embry asked, and the sadness in his voice was deafening.

"Seth imprinted a couple of years ago and left. I'm sure he's fine, you know him," Jacob told him, trying his best to sound casual. Like he was telling his life story to an old friend at a class reunion, "And Leah, well, she gets softer with the years."

Embry laughed unbelievingly – he sounded almost exactly as Jacob remembered.

"How is everyone else?" Jacob asked, his guts wrenching. Did he want to know? Was he willing to let his dreams and fantasies be crushed?

"Oh, everyone is fine, really. Same old, same old, here. Nothing new on the western front," Embry chuckled, a sound so unusual and unfitting coming from a grown up man. For a second, Jacob wondered if standing here in front of his old best friend who probably looked like he had emerged from a dream, Embry was catapulted back into the past. Into easier times.

"That's good. Good," Jacob mumbled, feeling the pressure of Bella's hand against the fabric of his shirt increase. He wondered if she was holding on to him more than he was steadying himself on her touch.

"Have you visited Charlie yet, Bella?" Embry asked, looking at Bella with the tiniest hint of instinctual suspicion.

"No, we just arrived, actually. He's over there, I guess? I think I'll stop by tomorrow," Bella answered, her eyes – full of sadness – looking over to the slowly dissolving crowd of mourners.

Embry nodded, burring his hands in his pockets.

"How long are you planning to stay?" he asked, directing the question more at Bella than Jacob.

"I don't think more than a few days," she answered, barely able to tear her eyes away from scanning the crowd for her father.

"Okay," Embry murmured, "It's just... you shouldn't stay too long. I don't want my boys to… you know."

"You have sons?" Bella asked with an affectionate smile, her fingers digging into Jacob's back.

"Two," Embry said proudly, his head turning back to the crowd. They must be there, as well.

Jacob felt more guilt stirring inside of him at the idea of people attending his father's funeral he had never met, who had been around when he was not.

"I should be heading back. I'll tell the boys that the… smell is nothing to worry about," Embry explained, casting a short apologetic glance at Bella, who was shaking her head, smiling, "Okay, then…I guess it's goodbye."

Jacob and Bella only nodded, knowing that there would be no hugs, no hands to shake. They were no longer parts of each other's worlds.

Embry glanced at them for a few more seconds, sighing, before he turned around without another word, walking back across the lawn towards the smaller crowd of mourners, leaving Bella and Jacob alone.

"Let's go," Jacob said with a thick voice, not able to bear standing here hidden behind the tress for another second while others got the chance to say goodbye to his own father.

x

Bella felt lost in the woods of La Push, woods she had never been to since her change, and Jacob could see her insecurity in her eyes as he led the way, his steps quick, harsh, angry.

It did not take them long, soon the forest was getting lighter again, and when a glimpse of red peeked out between the line of trees, Jacob turned to look at Bella again, who had slowed down, her eyes fixed on the familiar red house that stood so nearby.

"Jacob," she whispered, stepping forward, her hand finding his arm.

"Come on," he urged gently, quickly walking closer, her cold hand dropping from his arm. He could hear her following him, and as they reached the line of the trees, they stood at the back of his makeshift garage.

"It's still here," Bella whispered in wonder, a bitter smile tingling on her lips, "Do you think we should…"

She waved her pale arm in the direction of the garage, looking up at Jacob questioningly. He was staring blankly ahead, the fact that their old temple was really still here making him feel oddly hopeful.

Without verbally answering Bella's question, he started to approach the garage, turning the corner, Bella close behind him, until he reached the entrance. He did not dare to peek at his old house only a few yards away, fearing the rush of guilt that was sure to come.

The entrance to the garage was barricaded with wooden pallets, the green moss covering them indicating that they had been standing her for a long time without anyone entering what they kept safe.

Jacob grabbed the old wood carefully, lifting the pallets from the ground and leaning them against the wall next to the entrance.

Breathing deeply, Jacob turned around, seeing Bella check their surroundings nervously.

"Hey, it's okay," he reassured her, drawing her attention to the open door, "Ladies first."

Bella laughed, the sound as clear as ice, burning Jacob's chest from the inside. He felt shivers running down his spine as Bella brushed his side stepping past him and into the garage. Not knowing if she was aware of his reaction, Jacob swallowed, following her inside.

"Oh God," Bella whispered, pressing her flat hand against her mouth as she took a look around.

Two rusty dirt bikes were leaning against the wall, a pair of greasy cut-off jeans lay on a chair, a few cans of unopened soda stood on the work bench, stray tools scattered across the floor.

"He didn't change a thing," Jacob whispered more to himself than to Bella, his fingers gliding along the handle bar of one of the bikes. It felt just like it had the last time he had touched it. Everything in here looked as it had when he had left. There was only more dust. And the Rabbit had to be disposed of after Jacob officially died in a car accident.

He looked over to where Bella stood by his work bench, her fingertips tracing a dusty can of soda.

"I wish this was still ours," she whispered so quietly that Jacob had to listen carefully to hear her. His forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

Bella never stopped tracing her pale finger along the opening of the can, her eyes empty. Jacob slowly stepped closer to her, keeping a distance between them – she was scaring him.

"All this. I wish it would never have changed."

"It didn't, Bella. Don't you see? It all looks just as it did when I left. My Dad probably never went in here," Jacob said dryly, caught between wanting to lighten Bella's mood and the horrible feeling of his dreams laying here hidden beneath dust.

"Everything changed, Jacob. I wish… it hadn't," Bella whispered just a notch louder than before, turning her head to look at Jacob, her golden eyes glassy, her soul open for him to read.

He took a step closer, feeling the tension between them charge with every inch he approached her, his heart beating against his ribcage.

"Are you saying… you wish that things were different? That you had made a different choice?"

It could not be. Hearing Bella say those words felt more surreal than suddenly standing in the setting of his dreams. He tried to remember a single moment in which Bella had seemed to regret her choice, or longed for a different life. Not finding a debris of a memory, Jacob started wondering who this girl talking to him really was, how many secrets she was truly hiding.

"If I could turn back time… I'd choose you, Jake," Bella whispered, taking one slow step closer to him so she was standing right in front of him, looking up into his eyes, into his soul.

_Jake._

She had stopped calling him that many years ago, at a time when _Jake_ had slowly been dying, had disappeared.

Jacob was sure his mind was playing tricks on him, that he was sleeping and that all this was a dream. But when Bella placed her cold hand on his chest, pressing against his rapidly beating heart, the coldness causing him to shiver, he knew he had never felt anything so _real_.

Suddenly, anger started to boil inside of him like a white flame, rushing through his veins, fire burning behind his eyes. Why now? Why did she have to come to this conclusion now, now that _everything_ was too late and nothing would make a difference anymore?

Rage took over, savage instinct needing to revenge the pain he had to go through all these years, vengeance for when she had left him shattered in his bed, bones broken, heart torn out. Payback for every single moment he had wished he had never let her pull him down with her.

Before Jacob knew, his lips were pressed brutally against a pair of cold, stone hard but smooth lips, Bella's hands clinging to his shoulder, pushing herself closer against him, her entire cold body pressed against him, his hands gripping her waist so tightly he was sure she must break apart beneath his touch.

They were pushing against each other like fighting animals, Bella's fingers travelling up his shoulder to the nape of his neck, pulling at his hair, the deep groan that rumbled in his chest vibrating against her chest.

A grunt of pain echoed through the makeshift garage as Bella pulled herself up, almost crushing Jacob's waist as she wrapped her legs tightly around him, grinding her middle against his denim-strained erection, her lips never releasing his. His only chance was breathing through his noise, her painfully sweet scent watering his eyes and he walked blindly until Bella crushed into the workbench, the wood cracking. Neither of them cared as Jacob pushed her down onto the surface, her legs never faltering in their death grip.

Jacob pushed himself against Bella's middle, feeling her a slight bit warmer than the rest of her body, his hand roughly stroking up and down her back before slipping beneath her blouse, cupping her breast in his hand, her moan drowned out against his lips. His thumb brushed against her erect nipple, his hips pushing faster against her, her fingertips scratching down his chest, before ripping roughly at his belt, the fastener breaking with a metallic snap.

Bella roughly unzipped his jeans, just carefully enough so the zipper did not rip, pushing his jeans down over his hips along with his boxers, the fabric gathering around Jacob's knees.

He groaned loudly as he pushed his bare erection against the rough denim of Bella's jeans, both of his hands now roughly kneading her breast, her moans just loud enough against his mouth to make his abdomen clench.

Just as he removed one of his hands from underneath her blouse, cold fingers suddenly grasped his erection, pulling it closer, stroking up and down so fast Jacob had no time to really perceive the coolness. His fist knocked onto the wooden surface, leaving a dent behind, a change in this flawlessly conserved memory.

_Why now?_

Ripping apart the button and zipper of her jeans, Jacob lifted Bella from the bench, her shriek muted. He pulled her jeans and panties down her pale legs, not bothering to push them past her ankles. Bella grasped his erection tighter, her free hand wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, always closer.

Grabbing her waist, Jacob pulled her to the edge of the work bench, her jeans preventing her from spreading her legs any wider, just enough for him to step in between, his erection brushing against her core, the wolf inside him screaming at him to run and never come back, a much deeper primal instinct making him push forward in one raw, brutal thrust.

Their fighting lips finally jerked apart, Bella's scream muted as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, her hands digging hard into his back, Jacob's groan causing his entire body to tremble.

She was so much warmer inside than on the outside, the contrast between her cold arms wrapped around his neck and _her_ wrapped around _him_ so intense that Jacob could only wonder how warm she would be if she were still human.

As he pulled back and thrust back in, feeling Bella cling to him desperately, her hips jerking forward to meet his every hard thrust, his mind started to wonder how this should have happened. The rage that kept him going only increased at that thought, knowing that this was so wrong and nothing like it should be, the frustration causing him to thrust even harder, his thighs beginning to get sore from slapping against hers over and over again.

This should have been so different. He would have taken his time, he would have been nervous as hell, but as happy as one could be, he would have worshipped her, kissed away any embarrassment. He would have loved her like she deserved to be loved.

But it was too late. His breathing became erratic, his abdomen tightening more and more, Bella's hands around him increasing their grip, her moans against his skin sending shivers all over his skin.

"Bella," he groaned huskily, barely able to speak, his hips thrusting always harder, his fingers digging deep into her marble skin.

"_Jake_," Bella whispered against his skin, the soft sound of his nickname sending Jacob over the edge, crushing Bella's twitching body against his, his deep groan muffled by her hair against his face, his arms and legs trembling from the effort, the world shattering around him.

Jacob's heart was pounding violently against his chest, his vice grip on Bella slowly weakening. She was immobile in his arms, making no sound, taking no breath. But then, he felt it. A soft, gentle, almost shy brush of cold lips against his shoulder.

Jacob closed his eyes, fighting back the urge to kiss the top of her head. This was wrong. A mistake. Against every scarce thing that still made sense these days.

He stepped backwards instead, removing himself from Bella entirely, not daring to look into her eyes as he pulled up his boxers and jeans.

"Jacob-"

"We should go back to the hotel. We can come back tomorrow so you can visit Charlie," he interrupted her, trying hard not to hear the sadness in her voice. Walking back to the entrance of the garage, Jacob dared one glance at Bella, who was pulling up her jeans, trying her best to hold them to her hips when the button was lying somewhere on the floor and the zipper was broken. But what caused Jacob's chest to contract painfully was the humiliated, devastated look on her pale face. For a second, she looked just like his Bells, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss away the pain.

But she was not. And so Jacob stepped outside into the sprinkling rain, hoping that the water would wash her scent and taste off him. Maybe even her memory.

* * *

Here is the **playlist** for this chapter:

Poets of the Fall - Carnival of Rust

The Civil Wars - Poison and Wine

Jack Savoretti - Songs from Different Times

Sia - Breathe Me

Fay Wolf - Yours


	5. ready for my final symphony

Part 5

I've been racing the clock / and I've run out of steam / I am ready for my final symphony

**athlete – black swan song**

The world outside was just starting to wake up as Jacob turned on his side for the millionth time, the very little sleep he had been granted over the night leaving his body more exhausted than an entirely sleepless night.

Jacob felt as if his brain was literally going to combust, the too many impressions from the day before achingly slowly burning themselves into his memory. The images of the mourners gathered around his father's grave, the familiarity of the forest, the unchanged, almost holy sight of his old garage would not leave his conscience.

But what occupied his mind most…was Bella. Their walk through the forest and back to the car, as well as the hour long drive to Port Angeles, had been marked by awkward silence, words lingering between them that neither dared to speak out loud. Instead of focussing on the road, Jacob had fought hard to ban the memories from flashing through his mind – the feeling of her cold skin, the unfamiliar heat of their lips pressed together, her hands desperately clutching his shoulders, the silent whisper of his name…

As they had arrived back at their hotel, Bella had locked herself in the small bathroom for half an hour, stepping out newly dressed, her black eyes dangerously threatening in the dim room. Excusing herself with a few sharp words, she had left the room to go hunting, leaving Jacob sitting on the edge of his bed, his head pounding.

He had taken too hot showers – the mere consideration of a cold shower causing him to shiver uncomfortably. One right after Bella had left, scrubbing his entire skin harshly with the washcloth, and a second very early in the morning, after he had woken up from a restless slumber, sweat drenching the sheets. But no matter how much soap he used and how hard he scrubbed, her scent would not fade away. And neither would the memories.

The night had dragged on like a cheap parody of Jacob's life, the clock ticking mercilessly, while he twisted and turned in the sheets, trying to think of something, anything, to forget what had happened. He knew that those were fruitless efforts, but Jacob would not give up fighting this easily.

None of this should have happened, it was all so twisted and wrong. How were they going to deal with this, how would he ever be able to look her in the eyes, or Edward, or Renesmee? He had cheated on everyone he knew, but mostly on himself. All these years he had fought so hard to keep her at bay, to not let her in, to keep a safe distance in order to protect himself.

Now he had crushed all this, had made his every single effort in vain.

His eyes were burning from the lack of sleep, dry, aching, and he groaned, sitting up straight in the small bed.

The sound of cars passing by reminded him that there was a world outside, and suddenly, Jacob felt the unexplainable urge to take a look, to drink everything in. Like a sleepwalker, he tumbled out of bed, walking straight over to the window, opening it mechanically.

Fresh, cold morning air filled his nostrils, cooling his overheated skin. The burning street light did no more use, the invisible sun casting a foggy, grey light upon the already busy city.

Jacob found no sane explanation for it, but he could not help but feel eerie looking out the window, watching the world outside come to life. He had no time to think about it any further, for he started hearing quiet steps in the hallway, before the door to the room opened.

"You're already awake?" Bella asked, closing the door quietly behind her. Jacob did not dare looking at her, afraid that the torture in his mind would only become more cruel if he laid his eyes upon her.

"You were out long," he answered instead, not moving his eyes from the deserted sidewalk in front of the book store across the street.

Yeah," Bella sighed, and Jacob could hear her stepping closer, the temperature in the room sinking immediately, the change too small for a human to recognize, "It's relatively densely populated here. I had to run a while until I stopped hearing people around."

Jacob shuddered as fantasies and actual memories of Bella hunting flashed in front of his inner eye.

"You wanted to visit Charlie today, right? I don't think I'll come along, leave you two some time for yourself. I'll be in La Push. Haven't really gotten a chance to say goodbye yesterday," Jacob said emotionlessly, almost apathetically, his eyes drifting away from the music store towards the end of the street.

"Okay," Bella said quietly, but Jacob hardly listened to her voice. His eyes were focussed on a pair approaching on the sidewalk. An old couple, the small woman's hand holding on to her husband's arm, her head resting against his shoulder. Their steps were careful and slow, but their faces were still glowing with life and love, beaming at each other.

The lump forming in Jacob's throat threatened to suffocate him, his fingers grasping hard onto the windowsill. This was the future for Stella and her husband, old and in love, their son and maybe their grandchildren waiting for them to come over for breakfast.

Not for him, though. Not for Bella, who stood so close to him now that he could hear her meaningless breathing.

"Jake," she murmured, and Jacob could almost see her reaching out her hand hesitantly, pulling it back and dropping it helplessly again, "We should-"

"Definitely get going," Jacob interrupted her, knowing she wanted to talk. He remembered his Bells, always so quiet and avoiding long speeches, but demanding an explanation for things he could not bear to speak out.

"But-" she began, as Jacob closed the window, turning towards his open suitcase on the second bed that was not needed.

"We should get dressed," he stated shortly, grabbing the first clothes that got caught between his fingers, rushing into the bathroom.

x

Bella had changed in the room, and Jacob had to fight back the memory of her pale, creamy legs wrapped around his waist from distracting him as he strode straight to the door, grabbing the car keys and card for the hotel room from the bedside table.

She followed him wordlessly down the dark corridor, and for a moment Jacob wondered if he was not being much like Edward in this situation, keeping her from talking for herself. But he could not help himself.

Trying to focus on the rainy road, Jacob tried to keep the guilt at bay. This was unlike any situation he had known Edward and Bella to be in. A selfish part of him told him – reassured him – that he had a right to stop her here. That is was a natural mean of self-preservation to stop her from pulling him in deeper. He did not want to hear her apologize, or tell him she regretted what had happened when he himself was so caught between shame and wonder about it.

He knew for sure that no words she could utter would make him feel better. They would only have the power to crush him more.

It was not until they passed the sign welcoming everyone to Forks that Jacob dared to peek at Bella. Her elbow was pressed against the window, her chin resting on her balled fists. Jacob was surprised to see her hair unruly and twisted, and he was shocked by the need to secure the loose strand behind her ear. The look in her eyes as they passed the familiar sign was taken from a sappy novel, her eyes full of longing and sadness. He found no better word than homesickness to describe Bella at the moment.

When Jacob pulled up in front of the familiar white house at the end of the street, he slowly stopped the car, turning off the engine with numb fingers. Turning his head slowly, he saw Bella staring at her old home before she became aware of Jacob's stare, looking back at him.

For the quiet moment they shared, Jacob wished so much that he was human and dropping Bella off at home on a regular day, the painful need kiss her here, in this car, overflowing his mind. Bella breathed deeply, that sound between a sigh and a gasp for breath, her pale fingers reaching out to open the door.

"I'll see you later," she whispered, intimidated, obviously fearing his reaction to any of her words. Before Jacob could register his guilt and hold her back, take her hand, make her forget, she had climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut.

The windows had started to film over, and all Jacob could see was Bella's fragile figure moving through the mist, gracefully climbing up the stairs to her father's house.

With a low grumble, Jacob started the engine, turning the car into the opposite driveway, feeling the gravel vibrate beneath the pedals, not daring a look into the rear view mirror as he sped off the familiar road to La Push, raindrops casting against the roof of the car, the unsteady dripping sound hypnotizing him.

x

The graveyard in La Push was deserted and quiet, hidden from the world within the trees. Most of the stones lining the muddy path had turned mossy over the years, the constant rain weathering them earlier than necessary. Some names were hardly recognizable anymore, but Jacob knew exactly where he needed to go.

He had walked the path so many times as a boy, much too often. A boy did not belong on a graveyard, for no reason, ever. The muddy path took a slow turn, one that had no impact while you were walking it, but became apparent to the eye when you turned around your head to look back.

Most of the graves were grey and lifeless at this time of the year, no one bothering with wasting money on flowers that would die so soon that is would be morbid to place them upon the graves. Still, there was one exception, a small ocean of bright flowers covering one grave a few yards away, just before the path took another turn, sharper this time. Jacob had never followed the path further than the spot that was marked by the flowers, though.

Jacob felt a rush of electricity in his spine as he realized that the two graves next to the one he had been looking for were different than the ones he remembered. New. People whose names he did not know. Looking into a mirror made it hard for Jacob to understand that everything around him was aging, that graves were being replaced.

But the light grey stone he had been looking for looked just as he remembered – almost. It was cleaner than it had been during his last visit, all the moss neatly removed. And there were three names engraved onto the stone, six dates.

Jacob faintly remembered the first time he had stood in this exact spot, fumbling with the collar of the shirt his sisters had put on him, the itchy fabric reminding him so much of the fact that his mother would never have forced him into it. He remembered not really understanding why his mother was not holding his hand and kissing his forehead, and why he should believe that she was in this wooden box that they were slowly easing into the hole in the ground.

He had never understood why she had left for the store a few days before, and had never come back home. Until that day, Jacob had thought that saying goodbye to someone meant you would see them again soon. But that day, he had to learn that that was not true.

Raindrops were gliding down Jacob's cheeks, and he did not care that they probably mixed with salty tears on their way down. Slowly, he sank down onto his knees, never taking his eyes of the three names engraved neatly onto the stone. He was an orphan. All alone.

Fumbling with the petals of a lily, Jacob searched his mind for the rights things to say, for the best thing to do. But he found no answer. Even if he was old inside, in this moment, standing in front of his parents' grave – his own grave -, he felt as much as a little boy as the day his mother had left him forever.

He had never actually seen his mother's gravestone after his own name had been engraved, and he felt strange looking at it now. It was not too different from looking at his obituary note, but standing here, seeing his name together with those of his parents, made him wish that he was really reunited with them. Not just a restless soul, but an honest name engraved on stone.

"Hey Mom…Dad. It's me, it's Jake. I don't know if you can hear me wherever you are, but that's not really the point, is it?" Jacob whispered. Although he knew that no one was around listening to him, he was afraid the wind might carry away his words – words that were meant for no one else but his parents buried deep underneath the cold earth.

"You're probably surprised I showed up here, right? I'm sorry I haven't been visiting you more often, Mom."

With the years, his visits to his mother's grave had decreased. He still remembered walking to the graveyard every single day for several years, always carrying a letter for his mother that he had written on his own. And every day he would come to find the letter had gone and he would smile, talk to his mother, ask her if she had liked what he had written, after a while not caring anymore that she never answered him.

Eventually, he had grown old enough to know that his mother was just a corpse in the earth, and that someone else had taken the letters. Jacob never asked what his father and his sisters had done with them, but he wanted to believe that they never opened a single one.

"And Dad… I am so sorry that… I didn't know – I shouldn't have left."

The tidal wave of guilt came rushing back, tearing at the seams of Jacob's sanity. If he only knew his father could hear him, know that he was forgiven.

"I deserted you although you needed my help and I should have been there for you. But I had no choice… I _had_ to leave, you have no idea how strongly I was being pulled away from you," he said with a tear-broken voice, swallowing down the lump in his throat, "I know that I disappointed the both of you. But, if it's not too late to apologize, I would really like you to know how sorry I am. And that I was always thinking about you."

Tears were now freely running down Jacob's russet cheeks, making a turn, trailing along the edge of his mouth, before dropping down his chin, the downpour immediately washing away their trails of sorrow.

"Mom, I… miss you so much. I've always missed you so much and I never… understood _why_ you were gone," Jacob admitted for the very first time, never having written about his helplessness in his childhood letter – mostly because he had lacked the words to express how lost he felt, "You would have killed me if you had still been around when I left, I know. God, I know you would have kept me away from… Bella. I'm sure Dad told you all about her. Charlie's girl."

Jacob knew that Bella had been over at his house a few times, even after her parents got divorced. But he had been so young then, and he did not really remember a single day. There were blurry memories of mud pies on the beach, but he was unsure if those were actual memories or mere fantasies of his mind. But his father had once told him that his mother had always liked to look after Bella when he and Charlie went fishing. Even if Bella had admitted to him once that she did not remember his mother, Jacob knew she had known her. And that meant more to him than he would ever admit.

"Dad probably told you it was all her fault. Maybe it was, but, really Mom… there is no point in holding a grudge against her. You should see her these days. I think… she's not that better off than I am. Maybe you know all that already, though," he ended vaguely, realizing how in the dark he was about his parents. Did they know? Or were they just dead, cold, gone?

"But, you should have known her better, Mom. She was… You would still have really liked her. I'm sure. I guess fate just played against us. Yeah, I know it's a poor excuse. But still…"

Jacob's voiced trailed off into silence, his hand absentmindedly reaching out for the heavy stone, his fingertip tracing alone the deep lines that were prove of his loneliness. Carved into the stone until the rain would wash them away along with his tears.

"I hope it's nice where you are, and that Dad can watch football all day long. You could say hello to grandpa for me, if that's no trouble and he's not chasing through the clouds."

Although Jacob had been confronted with death much too early and much too often in his life, he had never given much thought about what happened after death. Never had he questioned the meaning of the hereafter, had never once asked his father where his mother had gone to. There were no beliefs he could cling himself to, no notions he took for the truth, wishful thinking about an afterlife. Deep down, Jacob knew his parents were just gone. But a flicker of hope inside of him wished – although he could not quite believe – that they could see their son kneeling in front of their grave and hear him talking.

"Anyway, I didn't come here to bother you. Being the fantastic son I am I probably have done that enough while you were alive. I really just stopped by… say goodbye. And apologize."

One last time, Jacob followed the curve of his mother's name on the cold, wet stone, before he stood straight again, regretting that he had not brought flowers.

"Goodbye."

x

Jacob did not know how he passed the rest of that day. He vaguely remembered leaving the graveyard behind him, walking back to the car through the dark green forest, no sunlight breaking through the heavy clouds, waiting for Bella before remembering that they never decided where to meet. After that, his memory failed him, blurry images of the forest, of a cabin in the woods he used to hide in with Quil and Embry, a path that lead to the cliffs, a rocky plateau with a weathered bench, a hiking trail, the backs of houses facing the forest.

Somehow, the hidden sun had started to fade, the already grey light turning into a light touch of blue, twilight and the still heavy rain keeping the people in La Push inside their houses.

It was not until Jacob felt sand give in underneath his bare feet that he realized he had instinctively walked to First Beach, his feet leaving trails in the rough sand. The rush of the windy ocean washing across the shore sounded so familiar. Jacob felt as if he had never really left this place behind, the cold wind rushing past his ears, the salty smell that filled his nostrils causing him to inhale deeply again and again.

He was really back home. And something inside of him, an eerie and deranged part of himself, told him that he should never leave this place again.

Still, he knew he could not stay.

When he reached the cold water, Jacob let it wash over his feet for a few minutes, cherishing the refreshing sensation as the water retreated and washed back over his warm skin. The soft sand, wet from the foam of broken waves, felt solid underneath the soles of his feet as he surely followed the shore, his steps stern and purposive.

It did not take him long before he saw a familiar piece of driftwood in the close distance, the scenery in front of him unchanged like his old garage. Everything looked the same, the branch, the beach, the ocean, the cliffs in the distance.

Dreading the loss of the water against his feet, Jacob crossed the beach, the sand now sticking even more to his feet, until he stood directly in front of the ancient piece of wood, mossy and broken.

It felt like a closure, his parents' grave and the constancy of this place. Like he was finally coming full circle.

Unlike the branch by the creek in the forest, Jacob did not dare to sit on the driftwood on First Beach. A phantom fear inside of him kept him from sitting down, from touching the weathered wood. It hurt that he could not remember when he had last sat on it, the memory washed out of his brain from a time when pain and loss were more omnipresent than ever again.

His former favorite spot on the beach had turned into an exhibit, a relict from old times. Like in a museum it lay still before him, protected by invisible glass from his touch.

Just as Jacob was about to walk back to the water – anywhere, just away from yet another debris of his past – the wind carried the sweet scent he had tried to avoid since he had inhaled it so deeply in the garage yesterday.

He should have known that this would be one of the first places for her to look for him. Standing completely still, eyes focussed sternly on the driftwood, he waited until he could hear her stepping over the sand, so very quiet mixed with the angry turmoil of the pacific.

"How is Charlie?" he asked before she got the chance to make any remarks about this place, ask questions, drill deeper.

Bella came to a slow halt next to him, her head turned into the very same direction as his, her eyes fixed on yet another reminder of their shattered past.

"He's okay. He and Sue actually got married, but she died last year. Cancer. And your father's death…Well, he's not at his best, but you know Sue. She made sure for him to leave the house and he's not all alone now."

Bella's voice sounded grim, apart from her obvious relief that her father got along.

"What did he say when he saw you on his doorstep?"

Bella sighed.

"He didn't look surprised at all. It seems like… he expected me to show up one day. But… he would not stop staring at my eyes. But I told him that you're here, too and about Renesmee and I showed him a picture of her and… I think he accepted it."

Neither of them said anything after that for a long time, the weight of the scenery too heavy on both of their minds. But Jacob could not help but revive the memory of his parents' grave, the question leaving his mouth before he could really consider it.

"Did you tell him goodbye? For good?"

He could feel Bella tense beside him, but he resisted the urge to take her hand, which was lifelessly hanging by her side. So close to his own.

"I think… He knows I probably won't come back again. We both know. There was no need to… say it out loud."

"Okay," Jacob murmured, knowing that there was just as little need to discuss this as there was to speak it out loud. Things that were set in stone like the names on his parents' gravestones. Irreversible.

"I love you, Jake," Bella suddenly whispered, her voice so close and her words so far.

"Why are you saying that?" Jacob asked, the familiar rage once again starting to boil hotly inside of his veins. Why could she not just let this be?

"Because it's true."

Jacob suppressed his unhumorous laughter, raising his voice just a little bit louder, still not looking at Bella.

"But why now? You said it to me before."

"I'm _in_ love with you," Bella stated with a firm voice, and Jacob could see her head turning in his direction from his peripheral vision. He did not dare to mirror that action.

"You said that before, too. It doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters to me."

"If it matters so much, why didn't you realize it thirty years ago when we still had a fucking chance?" Jacob asked angrily, his hands instinctively balling into fists. The pointlessness of the situation seemed so intense to him, that he could not understand Bella's persistence.

"But-"

"No, Bella," Jacob interrupted her, "You can't do this to other people, playing with them like you're God. You chose him. So why do I suddenly matter to you?"

"You _always_ mattered to me, Jake," she insisted haggardly, her stare piercing Jacob's side, the sound of his name on her lips in combination with this place too much to bear.

"Don't call me that," he said quietly, more like a begging plead.

"Why?"

"Because you're not… the same person who used to call me that."

"But I am, Jake. Don't you see? It's still me – in here," Bella said gently, her fingers catching his unwilling hand, pressing his palm against her motionless chest.

The feeling of her beneath his touch disgusted Jacob deep down, yet, he could not pull away. Something kept pulling him closer instinctively.

"Your heart isn't beating anymore, Bella."

"I wish it was, though."

The weight of her words rested heavily against her chest, and although Jacob could feel no heartbeat underneath the palm of his hand, he could feel her deep breathing, for a second making it feel like this was real and normal.

"You really… meant it? Do you… regret your choice?" he asked, remember her words in the garage yesterday. During the restless night, her words had echoed in his ears many times, but he was unsure what to think of them. She had looked so absent and dizzy, that he had no clue if she was talking the truth or hallucinating.

"Yes," she answered determinedly, her own hand still resting on top of Jacob's.

"Every part of it?"

"Yes."

"Renesmee?"

Jacob knew he was pushing the boundaries here, entering fields that should remain private, hidden, silent.

"Yes."

Her honest, almost cold answer surprised Jacob, his eyes widening for a second. She loved Renesmee, her daughter being the only thing Jacob was sure she would never give up. Yet, her words told him a different story now.

"Why?" he asked faithlessly, searching Bella's eyes for any evidence of a lie.

"Because I'm a terrible person, and I know that," she explained with quick, rushed words, "Because I hate the way you look at her – and not because she's my daughter and I'm worried, but because I wish I was her. I envy her – my own daughter. For the imprint, that you two share something we never did."

Jacob roughly jerked his hand away from Bella's chest, staring at her in utter disbelief.

"Bella, do you have any idea how the imprint makes me feel? Do you honestly believe I would ever have wanted to feel that way about you? It's… I can't do anything with her around, not on my own will. She has her strings attached so deep inside of me and she doesn't even know," he exclaimed loudly onto the deserted beach, ignoring the painful look on Bella's face, relieved to finally have said out loud what had been tearing him apart for so long, "I hate it, Bella. And I _loved_ you."

"Loved?" Bella repeated with a whisper, his emphasise on the past tense causing her eyelids to fall heavier.

"You are not… I loved the girl you decided not to be."

"I am not enough?"

Why could she not let this go? What did she think would be the end of this? Leave this unbearable weight here on the beach and let the ocean wash it away and go back to life her happily ever after? How twisted had her mind become?

"What do you want, Bella?" Jacob asked in defeat, completely at loss.

"I want to turn back time and chose you and grow old with you, have children, and stand here worrying about the wrinkles around my eyes, knowing you would always love me," Bella answered with such choked words that Jacob looked deep into her eyes, almost expecting to see tears gathering there.

"You know that will never happen. You have to let those dreams go. They won't ever come true."

He tried not too be angry, knowing that it would be cruel to crush her dreams. She needed to know to let go.

"I know. And… I'm so… deeply sorry for ruining your life along with my own."

Hearing her broken words, her chin directed on the ground, Jacob grabbed Bella's upper arms, shaking her, forcing her to look him into the eyes.

"This is not a life, Bella! I keep on living because I still have hope that somewhere inside of you that girl I once loved so much is still waiting for me. But then I look into your eyes and all I see is a stranger. Do you even know how badly I would like to forget everything that has happened? To start over? But then I look into Renesmee's eyes and all I see is _that_ girl from my memory. And I want her back so damn much."

At his last desperate words, Jacob gave up his inner fight, wrapping his arms tightly around Bella's cold body, crushing her against him, burying his face in her hair, not caring that his nose burned painfully.

Bella sighed sadly in his arms, her small hands gliding along his stomach and onto his back, holding on to him like he was holding on to her.

"I'm right here, Jake," she whispered against his chest, the beating of his heart against her cheek.

"You died, Bells. You're dead. I was there – I saw you bleed out and die without being able to help. I heard your heart stop beating."

Memories of that day, the horrid images that would never be erased from Jacob's mind, the disturbing sight of his Bells dying, caused Jacob to only hold Bella tighter, his nose nuzzling the top of her head, his hands gently brushing up and down her spine.

"But you said… you would wait. _Even then_. That's what you said." The fatal hope in Bella's voice caused Jacob to loosen their embrace just enough to look down at her face, the expression in her eyes reminding him of a day in a downpour just like this, when he had to actually break a promise, send her away to protect her and she had begged for him to not break her heart.

"I never promised I could, Bells. So, please. What do you really want?"

"I just want you to love me back again," she whispered sadly, one of her hands softly travelling up to his neck.

"I never stopped loving you, Bells," Jacob whispered back, lowering his head to softly brush his lips against hers, the feeling of her fingertips caressing his neck causing him to shiver in her arms.

It was a slow, lingering kiss, Jacob's lips memorizing the smooth skin of her mouth, a small sigh escaping her when his hand cupped her cheek gently, his thumb brushing her cheekbone, feeling the tips of her lashes tickling his fingertip.

His other hand slowly roamed around her waist, his fingers dipping beneath her blouse, trailing his hot fingers across her icy skin, which caused Bella to cling to him tighter, her hand that was not massaging Jacob's neck mirroring his, sneaking beneath his shirt.

Jacob could feel goose bumps all over his skin as she trailed her fingertips feather lightly across his stomach, lingering for just a wink of time at the waistband of his jeans.

"Jake," she sighed as he broke their kiss, her hands gripping onto him when he started to kiss the corners of her mouth, the tip of her nose, each closed eye, her temples, her forehead, her jaw and chin, before he trailed his lips to her ear, nuzzling his nose behind the shell, hearing her low moan right next to his ear, where she gently pressed her lips against his burning skin.

"God, I missed you so much," he groaned against her neck, his tongue tracing circles on the skin, causing Bella to press herself closer against him, his teeth ever so carefully napping at her earlobe.

"I know," she answered, sounding oddly out of breath, clinging to his neck now, gently pushing him backwards.

Jacob had a vague idea what she had in mind, carefully taking a few steps backwards, never parting his lips from Bella's skin, his hands now tracing over every ridge in her spine and securing the wild strands of her wet hair behind her ear. When his calves knocked into the familiar piece of driftwood, Jacob let himself fall backwards, finally finding the courage to sit down on this reminder of their past.

How often had he wished to kiss her while sitting here, her head against his shoulder, his own arm wrapped shyly around her, probing her borders.

"I love you so much," Bella whispered, straddling his thighs and pushing herself against him, reconnecting their lips for another slow kiss.

He groaned as she scraped her fingernails down his throat and along the collar of his shirt, the sweet mixture between pain and gentleness causing him to bury his head back in the crook of her neck, his hands clutching her waist tightly, never wanting to let her go.

"I love you, too, Bells," he sighed, resting his head against her collarbone, feeling her fingers move up to his skull, gently running through his hair.

And then, entirely out of the blue, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Pulling back his head, looking Bella deep into her darkening eyes, he leaned forward, running the tip of his tongue along her slightly parted lips for a mere fragment of a second before Bella quickly pulled her head away from him.

"Be careful," she warned him and Jacob had to choke back tears as he imagined the blush that would surely be tinting her cheeks if she were still alive, her heart still beating.

"Kill me."

Jacob's whispered demand was so quiet that he could hardly hear himself, the rain drumming against everything around them, the violent rush of the ocean a few yards away drowning out every other sound.

"What?" Bella asked confused, her hands cupping his face, leaning in closer to push the tip of her nose gently against his.

"Kill me," Jacob said more clearly, his eyes closed, trying to drink in every sensation he was granted with her like this, in his arms, loving him.

"That's not funny, Jake," Bella said calmly, pulling back enough to look at Jacob's closed eyes. He knew she was not taking him seriously, and so he opened his eyes, pushing his hands underneath her shirt to hold on to her bare waist.

"I'm not joking."

The expression in Bella's eyes suddenly changed as she realized that Jacob was actually asking of her what she had heard, and she dropped her hands from his face, letting them fall into their laps.

"But…what?"

Jacob leaned closer to gently brush his lips against hers, so easy it was like the touch of a butterfly's wing.

"It's the only way to end this, Bells," he whispered against her lips, "This can't be. Ever. Although we have all of eternity to try, it can't be. You made a different choice. It's too late for _us_. And this… life is not for me. I should be married by now, aged, have children. But I'm not."

"You still can. Even if we are lost forever, you can still go on. I can't. But you can," Bella said, leaning back, despair evident in her voice.

"You don't understand. I can't. Literally," Jacob said, his head now buried in the crook of her neck again, her hair forming a falling curtain to hide behind, "It would break her heart."

He knew she understood who they were talking about, he could not bear to say her name out loud.

"But getting yourself killed wouldn't?" Bella whispered unbelievingly, her hands now rubbing up and down his upper arms.

"She's far away, that's why I can even say it out loud. You would do it, not me. You're my only way out."

"I'm not going to kill you, Jake."

Bella sounded full of determination, and Jacob pulled back to look at her with a stern expression, catching one of her hands in his.

"You already did when you left me lying on that bed and stepped out of my door all those years ago. You might as well finish what you started."

He hated to see her flinch in pain at that memory, the guilt practically carved into her skin, and he trailed his fingertip over her eyebrows to calm her down.

"I can't, Jake. This is… insane."

"This is not how things should have gone. I want to fight – hell, I fought all these years. But I can't anymore," Jacob explained gently, trying to make Bella see sense, "I'm getting old, Bells. Inside. And I'm so tired. So please, save me. I'm not your Jake anymore. He died the second your heart stopped beating, but you made me hang on, forced me to stay. Let me go, please."

"How can you ask this from me?" Bella asked reproachfully, resting her head against Jacob's shoulder to feel the heat of his body and the beating of his heart.

"Just think about what you asked of me all this time. I'm asking you to do something good."

"I can't _kill_ you, Jake."

Jacob had begun to run his hand up and down her back, whispering directly into her ear, kissing the shell every now and then.

"Don't look at it like that. You really are saving me."

"Can't you try to break the imprint?" Bella asked desperately, trying to find any kind of way out of their misery, "Or tell her? We can tell her. She loves you so much, she'd let you go. You could start over. Stop phasing, age. Do everything you were supposed to do."

Jacob sighed at the mere idea of that.

"She won't. She'd say that she'd let me go, but deep inside – she can't," he said bitterly, kissing the top of her head again.

"We could run away, Jake. Just you and me."

The echo of her human voice saying these exact same words to him sounded in Jacob's memory, a different time when she had tried to save him from something she had no control over.

"I said this before, all those years ago. I would run away with you, Bells. If I could. I tried, remember? Running away. Why do you think I came back? Because I felt the pain I had caused in her and I couldn't move a step further away from her," he said, carefully pushing Bella away from him to look at her, gripping her shoulders, "You _are_ my only chance."

"But… what about me? What am I supposed to do? Go back and tell them, or lie and pretend? I can't, Jake. I can't just go back."

"You'll find a way," Jacob assured her, kissing her cheek softly, dreaming of a different future in which he had aged with Bella, had children with her, maybe even talked her into marrying him on this beach.

"But… I don't know where to go."

Her whisper was quiet, empty of all hope and he pulled her close against him, wrapping himself around her, as if he was trying to protect her from the storm and keep her warm.

"No one knows. But, I'll wait for you. I promise."

"I'm immortal," she answered bitterly.

"Time here is not. And you know I'm very patient."

Jacob smiled slightly as he heard her dry chuckle at that remark, and he realized it was the first honest smile in a very long time.

For a while they just sat there, holding on to each other, Bella's lips occasionally ghosting over his neck, her hands painting pictures onto his back.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she whispered against his neck, the soft vibrating of her voice leaving behind a wave of goose bumps.

"Is there still a point in asking?"

Bella took her time to talk, and Jacob knew that she was about to tell him something that she must have kept a secret for a long time, another weight she had carried all on her own.

"I thought about it, too. Just… ending this. Going to Italy. It would be… so simple," she told him, her voice far away, her thoughts somewhere else, in warm, Mediterranean cities with red flags and a clock tower and a fountain enlightened by the sunshine.

"Why didn't you tell me all this before?" Jacob sighed, not just talking about her unmade decisions, but everything that had happened within the last two days. Revelations that should have been made so much sooner, when they still had a chance to change anything.

"How? I am supposed to be happy," Bella said, and Jacob remembered he had thought of her as happy and pretty much unworthy of being unhappy not too long ago. If he had only known all this before…

"Why did all of this even happen in the first place? It's so wrong."

He remembered her sitting in his garage, eyes empty, no words spoken, he remembered taking her for a ride with the bikes, to a cinema, reconnecting with her after he had literally burst apart, letting her run off to Italy, watching her give up her entire unlived life for his archenemy, trying so hard to make her realize what other options she had, and eventually failing in the end.

That was the hardest part for him. Knowing he had failed her.

"I was so sure that I could not live without Edward that I completely forgot that I wasn't dead when he left me. I didn't know, Jake. I thought that loving Edward would be enough to forget you. But it wasn't."

They fell back into silence again, the beach now tinted in a deep dark blue, the sky almost black, no stars shining through.

"I don't think I can do it, Jake. I'm lost without you."

"You've always been, honey. But these are the consequences. This is it."

Bella pulled back, kissing him on the lips gently, her nose bumping against his before resting against his cheek, her fingertips playing with his hair.

"My forever?" she whispered against his lips with a bitter, mirthless voice, the warmth of Jacob's breaths superficially warming her lips.

"It's in your hands, Bells."

"Right now?" she asked, swallowing hard, kissing him again, pecking his lips again and again.

"Not here, honey. Come," Jacob replied, catching her fleeting lips with his own for another lingering kiss before carefully standing up, Bella's legs sliding down his own until she stood on her own feet.

He cradled her hand in his, reluctantly parting his lips from hers, before wordlessly walking back across the beach, towards the only place he knew this could end.

x

Jacob could see realization hit Bella as they left the muddy road to climb up an even muddier, but steadily rockier path upwards. She said nothing, her hand still intertwined with his, clinging to his side, soaking up his warmth.

Night had fallen completely now, the darkness enveloping everything underneath the sky.

Feeling his heart beat unusually fast, Jacob slowed his steps, which were still determined. He was rushing Bella into this, he could see it in her eyes as she cuddled herself into him, her sure steps never faltering.

He affectionately kissed the top of her head, feeling the mud entirely give in to a rocky plane beneath his feet the closer they got to their destination.

The rush of the ocean sounded distant yet close, wind blowing through Bella's hair, single loose strands tickling Jacob's face every now and then.

"I don't think I want to do this, Jake," Bella whispered the second they reached the rocky plateau, the edge of the cliff becoming one with the darkness.

Jacob turned around, never letting go of Bella, raising her chin gently, his fingertips lingering against her skin.

"I can't force you to do this. I'm just asking you."

Bella turned her head slightly, not enough for Jacob's fingers to drop, looking around in the night.

"Why here?" she whispered, and Jacob could see that she was dwelling in darker memories than this night, her eyes slightly pulled together.

"It ended here the first time, feels like a closure to me," he mumbled against her cheek, dropping little kisses from her eyes to her jaw and ear, "Plus, no one ever comes here. It's too dangerous."

Bella sighed against his neck, and Jacob could not suppress the long forgotten anger he had felt when she had jumped without him, when he had failed to be there in time, setting a series of events in motion that had eventually led them back here. To end it. Once and for all.

"I wish you had never jumped after me that day," Bella said with morbid determination in her voice, resting her head against Jacob's chest, arms wrapped tightly around him.

The rain had gotten so light that it was just a faint sprinkle, the strong wind on top off the cliff enough to blow it past them.

"Why?"

"Because I would have died, drowned, crushed against the rocks, maybe Victoria would have gotten me before either of that. And you would have been sad and would have blamed yourself. But in the end, it would have been grief, and that passes. You could have gone on with time."

Jacob leaned down to kiss Bella, not wanting to imagine the pain he would have felt if he had been too late that day. The kiss started out gentle, just their lips brushing against each others, both of them careful, trying to secure the moment, one of their last. Make it last. But eventually, despair and fear took over both of them, realization that there was no more need to be careful, and so they pushed more firmly against each other, Jacob's tongue gently tracing along Bella's closed lips, his hands roaming across her waist and stomach.

"I can't do this, Jake," Bella moaned against his skin as he started to nibble down her throat, biting her resistant skin gently.

"Bella, please," Jacob sighed against her skin, dropping to his knees on the hard rock, pulling Bella with him, pushing himself as close to her as he could, "Please."

Bella retreated her head, her eyes full of sadness, cold fingertips gently tracing along his cheek.

"I love you so much," she whispered, before leaning close, burring her head in the crook of Jacob's neck, nuzzling her nose against his steadily pulsing carotid artery.

Everything suddenly seemed so much more beautiful, the wind almost peaceful, the darkness of the night comforting, the coolness of Bella's skin feeling like warmth beneath his hands, her smell erased by the salty rushes of the rumbling ocean beneath them.

"I love you, too," he whispered against her hair, feeling her lips press gentle feather light butterfly kisses along his throat, never really touching, almost teasing him playfully.

"Jake," she sighed, parting her lips, and Jacob could feel something sticky, not really wet, but still catching the cold of her breath, against his throat. Bella's parted lips pressed more stern kisses along his skin now, her hands wrapping themselves around his middle, pushing herself twisted into his lap, "Hold me."

Jacob closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms entirely around her, pretending his heartbeats ere mirrored in her chest pressed against his, her tender kisses leaving him more peaceful in their wake.

"_Bells_," he whispered with a heavy voice, finding no words to say goodbye, kissing the top of her head instead, feeling her soft hair underneath his lips.

He could feel her lips press more firmly into his skin, his heart beating slower now, calming down, accepting its fate silently.

"I love you," she repeated, but before Jacob could really let her pain-filled words sink in, he felt a sharp, stinging pain breaking the skin of his neck, clutching his arms tighter around Bella. For a splint second the pain faded away, the superficial sting not too deep, not too severe.

But then a slow fire started to spread through his veins, staring around the bite marks Bella now placed gentle kisses in, running down his throat, across his collarbone and face, down his arms, burning his chest from the inside out. By the time the fire had reached his legs, Jacob did not realize the spreading anymore.

His heart was beating so fast that the pounding threatened to tear apart his eardrums, the fire achingly slowly burning down his every raw nerve, red light flashing in front of his closed eyes.

Somewhere, distantly, he could hear Bella's hushed voice, could feel her cold hands brush against his sweaty skin, her lips pressing against every free inch of his body, felt her in his arms.

The small corner of his mind that the pain had left sane knew that she was holding him upright, could hear his own screams mingling with the rush of the ocean. The agonizing fire that pumped through his veins with every rapid beat of his heart causing his mind to swirl, images rushing by that he could not identify as hallucination or reality. They felt familiar, like memories, but his mind was not capable of thinking straight.

Time stopped mattering, the pain stopped pounding in time with his heartbeat, turning into a constant drill. Needles were being pumped through his veins, razorblades that cut him open from the inside relentlessly, always more, more, more.

And then, just as suddenly as the pain had come, for a splint second, Jacob regained control over his body, feeling the pain stop for just a fragment of a second, like a hummingbird spreading its wings just once. His eyes opened, the sun shining brightly from the blue sky, the ocean rocking gently against the cliff below. Everything was quiet, peaceful.

Then, a last twitch of pain, a million times stronger than the constant labour that had pushed him through the starless night, ran through Jacob's body, piercing his heart, and he tightened his arms in pain, trying to hold on, hearing a soft, familiar whimper and the sound of shattering glass, before everything turned dark, numb, and his heart stopped beating.

* * *

I want to thank everyone who stuck around until the ending of this, because I know how difficult these post-Breaking Dawn stories can be. I intentionally left the ending open to interpretation, and I would love to hear your thoughts.

Here is the **playlist** for this chapter:

Athlete - Black Swan Song

Eowyn - Unfinished Memories

Sia - Lullaby

Clint Mansell - Together we will live forever

Mariah McMagnus - Unarmed


End file.
